


Sand and Stardust

by ivy_thalassa



Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: F/M, Nessian - Freeform, Pregnancy, Unplanned Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-02
Updated: 2021-01-30
Packaged: 2021-02-27 11:13:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 62,274
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22076008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ivy_thalassa/pseuds/ivy_thalassa
Summary: Nesta has finally turned away from the path of self-destruction: she's been fairly sober for months now (not that her sister knows).Everything is fine-ish. Then, Nesta realizes she's pregnant with Cassian's baby...It focuses on Nesta's journey through pregnancy and her relationship with Cassian, her baby and her sisters.(Better than it sounds, I promise. I just don't know how to write summaries)Post-ACOWAR (Post-ACOFAS but Nesta doesn't go to the Illyrian mountains)
Relationships: Nesta Archeron & Cassian, Nesta Archeron/Cassian
Comments: 243
Kudos: 584





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fic on this website. It's also my first fanfic in the ACOTAR fandom. Please leave constructive criticism, reviews, questions or anything in the comments!
> 
> FYI: I chose the title to be sand and stardust because sand symbolizes time (which suddenly slips through your fingers, especially when raising a child), & stardust because we are all made of stardust and I think that having a child makes your appreciate the beauty of life itself (which I think stardust conveys). 
> 
> I hope you like it! Thanks for reading!!

It didn’t matter. Because in the end, he would always choose them.

He was the one person who was supposed to put her first, but his duty would never allow that.

So as she sat there, holding the pregnancy test in one hand, and an apple in the other, she wondered once again what she would do. Should she tell him? Should she disappear? Should she tell everyone?

She knew she owed him enough that he deserved to know. But she couldn’t bear the thought of telling everyone; everyone who loved him and thought the world of him, and hated her. She couldn’t let them take away her child. Not now. Not ever.

Nesta sighed. Putting the pregnancy test in her pocket, she tossed the apple into the air.

She’d known for a while now that Cassian was her mate. It wasn’t the sort of thing that one could just ignore. But… she also knew that, even if Cassian were to love her more than anything, even if he accepted her as his mate, even if he did everything she could ever want, he would always put his duty to Rhysand and Feyre first. Because that was who he was: loyal, brave, kind, strong. Someone to rely on.

Still, the fact that her cauldron-damned sister would always have more power over her mate than her didn’t sit well with Nesta. Feyre was High Lady, Feyre had the whole Inner Circle as her best friends and her new family. Why couldn’t Nesta just have one person? Just one?

Even Elain, whom Nesta had cared for above all else, whom Nesta had loved and taken care of and sacrificed the world for, even ELAIN had abandoned Nesta.  
Perhaps it was the world’s way of taking revenge on her for not providing for her family as a child. For wanting her father to feed them and take care of them the way he had when they were younger. But truly, wasn’t it enough that she’d drowned in that Cauldron and been turned into the thing she’d feared and hated her entire life?  
Nesta shut her eyes.

The baby’s only possible father was Cassian. Once, Nesta had taken to sleeping with countless, nameless men, just to show that she could and just to try to feel something. Who she was proving something to, she wasn’t entirely sure: perhaps her parents, who had raised her to be proper and to become this thing that even her sisters couldn’t love, perhaps her old self, who had actually believed that by marrying herself off she could help her sisters, perhaps Tomas, who had tried to take her virginity. But for a few months now, she had not engaged sexually with anyone, save one drunken night where she and Cassian had…

She’d woken up early in the morning, wrapped in his arms and sheets, her head resting gently against his chest, both of them naked. Panicking over what the fallout of that one night of pleasure would be, she’d quietly pried herself from his arms, gathered her clothes, and left. They hadn’t spoken of that night again.  
Nesta had tried, on several different occasions, to get Cassian alone, to try and build a friendship, or maybe just a civil relationship, with the male. And every time, without fail, Feyre or Rhysand or Morrigan, who hated Nesta as much as Nesta hated her, had interrupted, stealing Cassian away for something.

According to the calendar, Nesta was probably about two and a half months into the pregnancy. She knew she wanted to keep the baby. From what she knew due to gossip from when she’d been human, her belly would start showing around three or four months. Meaning Nesta only had a few more weeks to procrastinate before deciding how to tell Cassian that she was pregnant and how to make sure that he wouldn’t tell the rest of the Inner Circle.

It wasn’t that she thought the Inner Circle would hate her baby; on the contrary, she knew they would love them because the child would be Cassian’s. She just didn’t want them hovering around her during her pregnancy, acting like they cared about her, seeing them conflicted between their disgust at her and their love for the child she carried… She didn’t want them to poison the one relationship she needed: the relationship between her and her child… It was already going to be hard enough to be a mother without all their judgmental stares and fake smiles.

To be a mother was something Nesta had always thought would be in her future but had never given too much thought to. Motherhood. Morning sickness, giving birth, breastfeeding, playing with her child, watching her child grow… Did she even know how to be a mother? Could she even take care of a child? She, who had allowed her sisters to starve, doing nothing? She, who had drunk herself into stupors and slept with anyone; she, who couldn’t stand the crackling sound of fire and couldn’t even take a bath… Could she take care of an infant?

She didn’t know. But she was certain in only one fact: she would not let anyone take her child away from her.

She did a quick mental calculation and sighed in relief: she hadn’t drunk very much in the past few months. She needed to eat more, though. While she didn’t care very much if she allowed herself to waste away, her child needed to be healthy. She’d go to the market tomorrow to buy some food.

Nesta cleaned up her house, throwing away old food and bottles, putting away dishes and clothes. She would need to buy clothes, too. Nesta sorted through her clothes, making a pile of the looser ones which would allow her to hide her bump for a month or so. She definitely needed to buy subtly loose clothing as well as maternity clothes if she didn’t want people to know so soon.

Nesta sat down on her bed, and took a deep breath, calming herself. While she didn’t know that much about being a mother, she did know the basics of how to hold and breastfeed an infant, since she had seen her mother do so with Feyre.

She needed a plan.

Step one: buy food and clothes tomorrow  
Step two: find a way to invite Cassian over  
Step three: make him swear not to tell anyone  
Step four: tell him about the pregnancy  
Step five: make sure no one else finds out  
Step six: prepare a nursery

Nesta nodded to herself. She would be totally fine. And if Cassian couldn’t promise to keep it a secret or if he didn’t want to get involved under her conditions, well, she would be just fine. Her child would get to know their father later in life and that was that.

Nesta looked in the mirror. There was nothing outwardly different about her yet, at least none that she could feel or tell. She had been feeling nauseous at times, and it was getting worse, but it was nothing new. Ever since she’d turned fae, her body had been messed up, throwing up whatever she ate and aching over nothing. It had been getting somewhat better, but during her drunken stage, she had obviously thrown up quite a lot. When that phase had ended almost six months ago, her body had also recovered. Still, when the pregnancy-induced nausea had begun, she hadn’t thought much of it. According to her little knowledge, it was supposed to be worst at around three months.  
Great, she thought to herself.

She placed a hand on her stomach, marveling that a life was inside her. She hoped that whatever trauma her body had endured when she’d turned fae wouldn’t affect the baby. Truth to be told, Nesta hadn’t even been sure that, as fae, she could get pregnant, since her body had been through so much. That was part of the reason Nesta knew she couldn’t get rid of this baby.

“Hello, little one,” she whispered. “I can’t believe you’re in there. I hope you know that I’ll take care of you no matter what. It doesn’t matter what Cassian- what your dad- decides. I don’t know very much about babies but I’ll do my best. I’ll read some books… Did you know that I love reading? After you’re born, I’ll read you lots and lots of books. In books, you can do whatever you want. You can be anything. But you’re… you haven’t even been born yet, have you? You still have your whole life ahead of you. You really can be whatever you want. I’m going to make sure of that.” Nesta laughed quietly. “I don’t even know if you can hear me. But maybe you can feel what I’m saying? I love you, little one. I love you, unconditionally.” A tear slipped from her eye, and Nesta hastily wiped it away, despite being alone in her home.

Unconditional love was something Nesta had always craved. Her father had once loved her the most, and her mother had loved each of them equally, claiming that she would cherish them forever. Yet her forever had ended far too soon, and so Nesta’s reality had dissolved. Her adorable, loving baby sisters had turned into something else: Elain, into a reserved, smiling child; Feyre, a stubborn, strong girl. First Feyre had lost her admiration for Nesta; now, years later, after all they had endured, Elain had lost her patience at her elder sister.  
Nesta didn’t know if her child would love her unconditionally, especially when they found out about her past. Still, she would love her child no matter what and she would make sure that her child knew that they were loved.

Another tear slipped.

Stupid pregnancy hormones, Nesta thought to herself, wiping the tear before it could make a trace down her cheek.

Walking over to the kitchen, Nesta decided that tomorrow, after shopping, she’d go to the library and pick out pregnancy books.


	2. Chapter 2

Nesta sat in the library in a corner where no one could see her. Just in case, she had a stack on random novels next to her. The pregnancy book on her lap could easily be hidden under any one of them. 

There was so much that she didn’t know. Where was she going to buy a crib? Where would she get onesies and toys and blankets? Where could she visit a healer who would be discrete enough not to tell their high lord or even gossip to any of their friends? Where would she get diapers? If the baby had wings, would Cassian teach them to fly? 

A thought suddenly crossed her mind. Would Cassian expect her to send her child to the Illyrian war camps if the baby was male and had wings? She blanched at the thought. She couldn’t let her baby become some bloodthirsty warrior before he even knew how to read… If her child decided to be a soldier, that was one thing, but raising her child to be a soldier? That was something Nesta definitely was NOT going to do. Her child needed to be free to become whatever they wished. 

Nesta laughed a bit at herself. They were SO not there yet. She still needed to decide so many things: when did she want to know the baby’s sex? What would she name the baby? 

And above all: how would she tell Cassian?

There was a lot more to worry about too. Nesta was very concerned about keeping her baby healthy. She knew that the books recommended seeing a healer as soon as possible, and she REALLY didn’t want to find out later about some kind of disease that she could have prevented by doing something different, but she didn’t know where to go. 

Another random thought crossed her mind. Cassian was around 600 years old. He had most definitely had other lovers and (though he didn’t talk about it) relationships. Had he ever had a child before? Nesta didn’t think so, but she’d never exactly asked him… 

There was so much she didn’t know. 

The books said that she would very soon be craving all sorts of strange foods, that her feet would get so bloated that she’d need new shoes, that her stomach would get so huge that she wouldn’t be able to see her feet… 

Apparently, there was also the matter of hormones, mood swings and ‘pregnancy brain’ which would cause her to be more forgetful and emotional. Some women even lost hair and their body changed shape irreversibly… 

Nesta giggled to herself, not caring that she probably seemed crazy. Her body couldn’t change more than it had. Her hips widening or whatever was going to happen couldn’t compare to her ears becoming pointy and all of her senses becoming sharper when she’d stopped drowning in the Cauldron. 

Although she was sure that giving birth was going to hurt like nothing she’d ever felt before. 

* * *

Once she got home, Nesta decided to try on a few of the outfits she’d gotten. The first a sweater-style dress, in dark gray (since dark colors were slimming). It had a turtle neckline, but had a white v design at the chest (to keep the eyes away from her belly). It ended a little underneath her knees and would go well with a pair of long boots. 

The next was a long, drapey, periwinkle dress. It would look fabulous paired with her black jacket, and it wouldn’t hug her body so no one would be able to tell.

Then, there was a pleated, light pink dress with a v-neckline and semi-sheer long sleeves. It looked incredible, if she dared say so herself.

Next, Nesta put on a ankle-length wrap dress with a floral pattern. It was slightly large on her, but she knew she’d soon grow into it (especially since her breasts were going to get larger). 

Lastly, there were her two favorite dresses: a dark green velvet dress and a dusty-rose colored wrap dress with kimono-style short sleeves. 

Nesta grinned. It had been a long time since she’d gone shopping and actually bought whatever she liked. 

Mainly because she never had the money or felt like it. After pulling herself out of her drunken stupor almost half a year ago, Nesta had at first relied on the money Feyre gave her each month as part of their initial agreement for Nesta to stay in Velaris. Still, Nesta had known that she wouldn’t ever be able to use the money for anything besides alcohol without feeling indebted and resentful to Feyre. Thus, without telling anyone, she’d begun working. At first, she’d worked for a couple months at a cafe, but after the Inner Circle came to visit the cafe one day as she hid in the backroom, she had resigned. She’d then taken a job setting up for a new bookstore that was soon going to open: no one came to the shop and so there was no chance for the Inner Circle to accidentally find her. It mostly involved hauling heavy boxes and organizing books. That job was ending soon, though. The shop was going to open in 10 days and after that, they could not keep Nesta employed: the owner would run the register and could only keep two or three other employees to run the shop with them, all of whom had known the owner for far longer and had far more experience and education. The owner had apologized many times to Nesta, but she’d waved him off, certain she’d find another job. Thankfully, she hadn’t spent very much over the past few months, and was able to splurge on dresses without worrying about her savings. Still, Nesta knew she needed to find a new job fast, preferably in the next 5 days, before her job ended. She’d try in a few days, Nesta decided. Although she barely had any skills… Perhaps she’d be able to work in a hair salon, as she knew how to braid and cut hair? Nevermind that Nesta hated the mere thought of that, since doing other people’s hair had always been such a personal, intimate experience for Nesta. The thought of doing it for strangers in exchange for money made her shudder, but for her baby Nesta would do it. Maybe it wasn’t so bad if Nesta could convince herself that she was doing it for her baby and not for strangers… 

* * *

The next day, after work, Nesta idly strolled the streets of Velaris, feeling oddly at ease. 

Since the shop was soon opening, there wasn’t much left to do, and they let her work for 4 hours in the morning and then have the afternoons off. 

That morning, she hadn’t felt nauseous and she actually had woken up energized. She felt strangely calm and happy, despite all her uncertainties and worries. She looked around at the display windows in the shops, studying the different patterns in which the shops showed off their products. 

She stopped in front of a shop where the display seemed haphazard. There were beautiful products inside, yet on the display table, it seemed as though products had simply been randomly placed. There were also far too many items, making the display crammed and overall unpleasant to the eye. Was this done on purpose? Nesta didn’t think so, but she couldn’t be sure. Normally, she would have simply walked away. Today, however, she was in a strange mood. 

Taking one look at the shop’s name - Brielle’s Boutique - she entered. It was fairly small, with lilac-colored walls and small glass pendant lights hanging from the ceiling at different lengths, resembling a glass mobile of stars. The lights gave the shop an elegant look. 

Unfortunately, the shelves, despite being less cramped than the display table, seemed to have no real organization. On one shelf, there were seashell collections next to a jar of candy, right next to a pile of books; on another, necklaces lay next to women’s undergarments and colored pencils. 

Perhaps Nesta would have simply walked out of the store, shaking her head at the waste of such beautiful items due to the terrible organization, if not for the fact that, at the precise moment when Nesta was contemplating the shop, a female entered the shop from the backroom. 

“Hello,” the female called out. “Can I help you find anything?”

The female had light brown skin and brown hair with a golden tint: she seemed to be from the Dawn court, but Nesta didn’t want to assume. Still, it was rare to see people in Velaris who appeared to be from other parts of the world. 

Nesta hesitated for a moment, before saying, “Are you Brielle?” 

“What?” The female seemed taken aback for a moment.

“I- the shop’s called Brielle’s Boutique, right? Are you the owner?” Nesta inquired, somewhat gently. 

The female nodded, then laughed slightly. “I am, yes. Sorry, it’s just that I used to work at my aunt’s shop for the longest time. We finally managed to get a spot on this road with all the other boutiques, which was my aunt’s dream, but she decided to stay with my cousin at the other location and named this one after me. I’m not used to running this place. It only really opened two weeks ago.”

Nesta listened to the female. Then Nesta, feeling somewhat bold, said, “You have very nice things in this boutique, Brielle, but you should probably sort out the shelves to make it easier to shop.”

Brielle laughed. “Thanks for the suggestion- Sorry, what was your name?”

“Nesta,” she replied. 

Brielle smiled. “Thank you, Nesta. I’ve been a little overwhelmed running this place, to be honest. I’m used to accounting, and running the register, but I’ve never really had much experience with the other side of things. I really appreciate suggestions.”

Nodding, Nesta added, “You know, your display window is a bit cramped. I feel like your products would be easier to see if you displayed less of them, maybe with a color theme or a seasonal theme.”

Brielle nodded, then cocked her head to the side. “Nesta, where do you work right now?”

“At a bookstore.”

“Any chance you’d be willing to work here? I really do need some help, and I think your ideas could help sales increase a lot.”

Nesta hesitated. She was looking for a job, but she knew, from her experience in the cafe, that she didn’t want to be interacting with customers so much, since she didn’t want to run into the Inner Circle. Especially now that she was going to hide her pregnancy… On the other hand, she really did need to save money to buy things for her baby. She needed to be able to provide for her child, whether or not Cassian was in their lives. 

Seeing Nesta’s hesitation, Brielle added quickly, “You’d be able to work flexible hours, since it’s just the two of us and you could really make decisions about the direction of the boutique. You’ll get a big chunk of our profit. It’ll be percentage-based, so if your ideas help the boutique alot, your salary will also increase. Based on everything you’ve said, I’m sure that will happen. If you need vacations or something, you can just tell me beforehand and I can give you time off. Plus, there’s tea in the backroom.”

Nesta considered it for a moment. She knew that a job with flexible hours and vacations would truly come in handy once her due date approached. She wasn’t entirely sure she would be able to bring her baby into the shop (surely crying infants would drive away customers) but at least for now, it was a good option. Really, it was her only option, unless she wanted to cut hair. “Okay,” Nesta said. “I’ll do it.” 

“Yay!” Brielle exclaimed, grinning. Her joy was contagious and Nesta’s lips quirked as well. 

“So, is there some sort of uniform I need to wear, or anything that I should learn or train for?” Nesta asked after a few seconds.

“Oh!” Brielle tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. It seemed like a habit. “Um, not really. You can wear whatever, you know, just keep it appropriate and comfortable.”

“When should I start?” 

“When do you want to start? You could start tomorrow, or whenever, really.”

Nesta blinked, surprised. “Well, I need to finish up this week at the bookshop. Can I start next week?”

“Sure!” Brielle nodded. Then she took out a notebook. “I usually open the boutique at around 9:30 am and close around 4:30 pm, so you would need to be here between 9 and 5 whenever you want to work a full day. Usually once a week, we have half day but there isn’t really a set time for that…” Brielle grinned a little sheepishly. “Also, I was thinking that on one of the weekdays, we should have a day off, but I haven’t picked a day yet. I was going to pick based on the day when there were the least customers…”

“Okay, well, um, I’ll come back next monday, and then we can decide about a schedule and put it on the door,” Nesta said, gently but firmly. (One might even say her tone was somewhat motherly).

“Great! I can’t wait!” Brielle smiled. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, I love having my own boutique, but it’s kind of lonely to work here alone. Even when there are customers, it’s still a bit lonely to eat my lunch by myself. I’m glad you’ll be here to keep me company and give the boutique your brilliant ideas!”

Nesta wondered whether she’d find Brielle’s chatter irritating on a regular day. Today clearly wasn’t a regular day. Nesta felt as though she could do anything. Well, almost anything. Telling Cassian was definitely on NOT on the list of things she could do. The thought was sobering and almost spoiled her mood, but then Nesta saw a box of macarons in the corner of the shop. 

“Brielle?” she asked. 

“Hmm?” 

“How much are these macarons?”

“They’re… you know what, for you, they’re free.”

Nesta began to protest, despite secretly hoping that she wouldn’t have to pay for the (most likely overpriced) macarons. 

“Really, Nesta, I insist. Think of it as a welcoming gift.”

Nesta wanted to protest a bit more: she didn’t need charity and didn’t want to feel indebted… but really this was a present, not a loan, and Nesta was REALLY craving macarons all of a sudden.

“Thank you so much, Brielle!” Nesta said in an uncharacteristically joyful tone.

Brielle’s face lit up. “See you monday, Nesta!”

Nesta exited the boutique and went home. 

Despite the commute to her house being only a 15 minute walk, Nesta couldn’t resist eating 2 out of the 6 macarons in the box. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I may have projected my love of macarons onto Nesta (oops ;) sorry not sorry)
> 
> Thank you guys so much for reading! I really appreciate any comments you may have!


	3. Chapter 3

One week later, on Monday at 9 am, Nesta stode into Brielle’s Boutique wearing a fitted, ankle-length navy dress with lace sleeves. It was a comfortable yet beautiful dress that Nesta loved and she wanted to make the most of it before she couldn’t wear it anymore. 

“Oh! Hello, Nesta!” Brielle exclaimed, with a smile on her face. 

“Hello,” Nesta replied, a little unsurely. “So, um… what should I do today?” 

“Oh, well maybe just make a plan for how to reorganize the shop. Tomorrow, we’ll open later, so you can come early and we can fix it, okay?”

“Sure,” Nesta replied as Brielle handed her a few sheets of paper and pencils with erasers. 

“Also,” Brielle added. “During the day, you can be at the register or help customers. It’s tough because we need to go to the backroom to manage the shipments and accounts and stuff and I need to show you the current system, but we also need to be here to keep an eye on any customers…”

“Why don’t you put a bell on the door, so that it jingles every time the door opens? That way we could know when customers enter or exit…” Nesta asked politely.

“Wow, what a great idea!” Brielle seemed genuinely glad for her suggestion.

Brielle entered the backroom, which was somewhat dark despite the lamp. She took out a thick volume and opened it to the middle.

“Every day, I calculate how much money the boutique made and write it down here. I also catalog which items were most popular so that I can decide how much to restock. I try to use these factors,” Brielle pointed to a row which contained words like ‘mean’ and ‘taxable’ and ‘revenue’ and ‘Q1’ and many other terms Nesta had knew absolutely nothing about, “to attempt to determine the perfect market price for our products, using the basics of supply-and-demand. I also usually divide up the profit into these categories,” Brielle pointed at a spreadsheet on the next page, which had headings like ‘long-term savings’ and ‘rent’ and ‘personal profit’, “I’ll obviously add one for you.”

Nesta blinked. As much as she hated to admit it, Nesta wasn’t the best with numbers. She had taken basic mathematics and knew how to manage the complexities of trading (as she had been preparing to one day become a merchant like her father) but knew very little about accounting and such. She did know how to save money, like her father had taught her when she was younger: by making a budget for her eating and shopping and rent and having short-term savings, long-term savings, and very long-term savings. She did not know much more than that. Her schooling had ended when she was fairly young (although later than her sisters) and she did not own books on economics. Even if she had, she would not have sought them out after her father’s merchant business failed and she was consumed by her rage towards her father’s inability and unwillingness to provide for them.

So as Brielle smiled and said, “If you have any suggestions about this side of the business as well, I’d be happy to change a few things. I was actually wondering whether you feel that it’s a more accurate representation of our customer’s demand if we use this method,” Brielle opened a page at the front of the book containing complex calculations and showed it to Nesta, “or this one?” Brielle turned a few pages and pointed at a huge jumble of letters and numbers that formed some kind of formula . 

A few seconds passed in silence and Nesta realized that Brielle was expecting an answer. Her head swimming in numbers and calculations, Nesta sighed. Swallowing her pride to be upfront with the female who was technically her boss, Nesta said, “I don’t know much about accounting… Is it alright if I leave that to you?”

“Of course!” Brielle took it in stride. “I’m sorry, I just love this side of things so much… Actually, I think we’ll be a perfect pair to run this place!”

Brielle checked her watch. “Oh, by the Cauldron, it’s already 9:28!” She rushed out of the backroom, Nesta following closely behind. 

“For today, I’ll mainly run the register,” Brielle said. “You can do whatever, just walk around the boutique can get to know where things are if customers ask you or if they seem confused. If you can come up with some ideas for a different organisation, that’d be great.”

Nesta smiled. Well, she didn’t exactly smile, but she was smiling on the inside. She couldn’t believe how much freedom she had. Nesta loved this kind of work, which allowed her to be creative in a way that had a real purpose and application and she loved to work in this kind of field. In truth, all of the jobs Nesta had had, which, to be fair, were only two, had not been ones she’d liked. Work at the cafe had been mind-numbing. While working at a bookshop was something Nesta had thought would be more appealing to her, her role had not involved any kind of reading or curating or use of her intellect; it had simply been hauling and sorting alphabetically. This new job allowed her to explore her own capabilities. It wasn’t something that anyone could do. It seemed to hold the promise that she could help it grow, and in return, it would help her grow, too. Perhaps she’d even learn some accounting over time.

It’s only temporary, Nesta reminded herself. But perhaps being hopeful was an inevitable side-effect of pregnancy. The life growing inside her was pure hope, with unblemished dreams and potential, carrying the whisper of days filled with joy and laughter that would lay ahead. 

* * *

Time passed fairly quickly and before she knew it the day was coming to an end. She’d spent most of her time walking through the boutique, taking notes on the current location of different products and drawing different ideas on how to reorganize and group items in the boutique. Customers had entered from time to time and some of them had bought things. Nesta had a few different ideas and she’d occasionally walked over to the counter where Brielle sat and asked a few questions such as whether new shelves could be bought or whether there were certain items she preferred to display for the branding of the boutique. 

The last customer had left and as the clock struck 4:30, Brielle had changed the sign at the front of the store to display the word ‘CLOSED’. 

Brielle walked over to Nesta. 

“So, how much time do you think it’ll take to reorganize the boutique?”

“Well…” Nesta showed Brielle the layout plan she had made of the current organization and the one she hoped to achieve. “I’d say we could get most of it done within, say, three hours.”

Brielle nodded. 

Nesta added, “How long do you think it will take to get this shelf and this display table?” 

Brielle looked at her watch. “The carpenter usually keeps his place open till around 5:30. I’ll swing by tonight and see if he has anything that we want ready-made. If he does, we could get it delivered tomorrow. If he doesn’t have it, we’ll have to wait about a week for him to custom-make it.”

“I wrote down the range of dimensions that could work for the furniture,” Nesta said, handing Brielle a sheet of paper. 

“Great! Nesta, it’s only your first day and you’ve already been such a huge help,” Brielle praised. Then she glanced at her watch again. “Okay, we can close up now since I don’t want the carpenter to leave, but um… oh,” Brielle ran a hand over her face. “I completely forgot about the bell you suggested… That shop is already closed and won’t be open till noon tomorrow… not to mention we also have to set up a display table and a schedule,” she muttered in a low voice that made it unclear whether she was talking to Nesta or herself. “You know what, let’s just dedicate tomorrow to setting up and reorganising. We can make the new and improved boutique debut on wednesday. Are you okay with that?” 

Nesta expressed her agreement to Brielle’s new plan. In truth, she felt that while setting up in 3 hours and adding displays and bells and such later on was possible, it was better to start fresh on a new day to make a bigger impact on customers. 

They quickly cleaned the boutique and locked up.

“See you tomorrow!” Brielle smiled and walked off rapidly, presumably to go to the carpenter. 

Nesta waved. As she walked home, she felt extremely satisfied. Her ideas were going to be implemented! Her first day at work had been a success! Brielle valued her! (Customers hadn’t recognized her and no one from the Inner Circle had visited her!) 

That night, for the first time since she’d found out she was pregnant, Nesta shut her eyes feeling content and calm. Her mind did not wander to the panic or insecurity or worry she felt when thinking how she was going to tell Cassian, how she was going to raise the baby or what she needed to buy to prepare. Instead, she fell asleep with the soft whisper of a smile on her lips. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading!!  
> I appreciate any and every comment (constructive criticism, questions, reviews, general feedback, etc).  
> So basically: please comment & leave kudos ;) THANKS


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello!  
> I know it's been over a month since I posted the first three chapters (oops sorry). I had written 3 chapters before deciding to post the fic on this website, so this chapter took longer to upload since I had to write it first.  
> I'm in 11th grade and I'm doing the IB program, so it's hard to find time to write with any regularity between trying to do my school work, studying for the SAT and SAT subject tests, and researching colleges... However, I love this fic so I'll do my best to update with as much regularity as possible.  
> Thank you so much to everyone who read this fic, and especially to those who commented and left kudos.  
> Again, thank you guys for your patience!  
> I hope you enjoy this chapter!

“Done!”

A joyful laugh escaped Brielle as she spun around. Nesta’s face was bright and, although she only allowed her lips to smile for a fraction of a second, the smile remained in her eyes.

The boutique had transformed. The shop, once a jumbled mess, now was arranged in an elegant and aesthetic pattern. Function, category and color schemes had been used to determine the new placement of the items in the shop; their positioning rearranged to facilitate access and organization. One’s eye could not help but follow the elegantly sorted rows until it rested upon something that caught one’s fancy.The next day, as customers trickled in, slowly at first and then more and more frequently, Nesta hoped her ideas helped really did increase their sales. Although even if they didn’t, they’d helped the shop become a wonderful much more pleasant bearable workplace.

If Nesta felt pleased when, while closing up the shop, Brielle announced, “That was the most customers I’ve had since the first day I opened the boutique!”, well, that was nobody’s business but her own.

Nesta became in charge of the display, which she decided to change every day or every other day (depending on her mood and how much she liked the arrangement she’d chosen). She also made notes on what customers seemed to enjoy or dislike and made suggestions on how to improve the organization and inventory. Besides that, she sat at the register or helped customers find items they wanted in the boutique.

So a few days passed, and soon it was Saturday afternoon.

“Any plans for tomorrow?” Brielle asked as they closed up the shop.

“I’m not sure yet…” Nesta knew she really had to talk to Cassian but she had not made any progress in imagining how to tell him.

“Are you doing anything tonight?"

“Not really.”

“Would you like to grab some drinks?” Brielle asked casually. Her tone was light and her question had truly been just that: a question, to which Nesta was allowed to say yes or no. It was so different from the demanding ‘questions’ Feyre or Rhysand or even Cassian asked her when they wanted her to attend some important event.

And it was because she could say no that Nesta wanted to say yes. She didn’t want Brielle to take it the wrong way and assume Nesta was rejecting her friendship or attempting to limit their interaction to their workplace. Nesta had never been gifted at the art of kind words but she did her best to keep her tone gentle.

“I’m sorry I can’t- I- I’m trying to limit my drinking,” was what tumbled off her tongue.

Brielle smiled, unaffected. “Would you like to have dinner, then?” Brielle seemed to realize that Nesta may have been trying to politely refuse her company, and added, “Although I do know it’s been a long week. If you’d prefer to go home and rest, I’d completely understand.”

“No, no… I’d like to have dinner with you if that’s no trouble,” Nesta replied, her tone once again uncharacteristically polite.

Brielle flashed that unrestrained smile again. “Great! I know just the place.”

Over dinner, they discussed everything: tea preferences, customers, hobbies, and so much more. They briefly touched on the topic of family, and to her own surprise, Nesta had shared a few tidbits about her own, though she didn’t mention any names or connections to the High Lord and Lady. When Brielle had spoken about her childhood and her parents’ deaths, Nesta too had opened up, this time a little more in depth, about the joys and struggles of her own childhood, including the death of her mother. Nesta hadn’t insulted Brielle, but she didn’t put up a facade: she was her true, fiery, hard, sharp self. Yet, instead of this inadvertently making Brielle feel offended or uncomfortable, Brielle had actually praised her, saying, “Nesta, you’re such a strong, intelligent and passionate person! I really admire that about you. I feel like you hide that sometimes to try to pretend to be soft. There are enough soft females in this world; you should be yourself. You’re so much more interesting that way.”

Nesta had smiled. Had anyone ever complimented her on her personality? She didn’t think so. In truth, she hadn’t realized how such a comment would make her feel: it wasn’t like when people praised her looks of her clothes or her taste in books. It made her feel confident and empowered and perhaps even comfortable in this skin which had never felt it was like hers.

Nesta had even asked Brielle for her age. It was something Nesta’s mother had taught her at a young age not to do (Nesta, a fiery child, had been taught not to do many things rather than being taught to do things), but she felt safe with Brielle. Nesta was damaged, yes. She’d been cracked and broken and scarred a thousand different ways. But she was on the road to recovery. With Brielle, she felt as though there was no need to pretend: she didn’t have to be broken or whole; she was allowed to be something in between. Nesta didn’t talk about the War or the Cauldron or being mortal, but just being so casual and open and friendly was comforting and freeing. To not be judged, to not be pitied or hated or feared; to be with someone who didn’t just tolerate her presence but actually enjoyed her company and chose to spend time with her without a sense of duty or obligation was incredibly refreshing and Nesta found herself enjoying the evening far more than she had planned.

Brielle had answered the question about her age with a laugh, not seeming to mind. “I’m 82.”

Nesta didn’t know if she had expected a higher or a lower number, but she was certainly surprised. It was strange: Cassian being 600 didn’t strike her as old because 600 years was a period of time too long for her once-human mind to fully grasp. 82, however, was a number that some mortals could live to. Nesta couldn’t reconcile the image of the young, vibrant fae in front of her with the wrinkle-filled visage of what she thought of as an 82 year old. The reminder that she wasn’t from this world hit her, but Brielle added, “I’m at that weird stage where I’m not old or young, you know?” and switched fluidly to a different topic.

It was, in truth, one of the best evenings Nesta had spent since she’d turned Fae.

She’d gone home feeling like she’d finally gotten something she’d been searching for since the end of the war, without knowing what it was.

As she lay in bed with her eyes shut, her mind already half-fogged up by the haze of sleep which threatened to take her any second now, a thought absently came to her – all those nights she’d spent drinking, having sex, and worse, had all been in vain. What she had needed in order to feel and heal and find some meaning in this new form of existence was a person to listen to her and try to understand her, without looking through the inevitably narrow lens of allegiance to Feyre or Elain. What she needed was someone to talk and care without ulterior motives. What she needed was a friend.

* * *

On Sunday, she slept in. Around 10:30 am, she woke up. Noting sadly that she had no macarons, she decided to instead eat some raspberries. Glancing at the calendar, which was starting to feel more and more like a clock that ticks incessantly, she realized that it had already been 2 weeks since the day she’d found out about her pregnancy.  
She really needed to tell Cassian. She needed to come up with a plan. Now.

She took a deep breath. Ok. She began a mental list to calm herself.

  1. Write a letter to Cassian, asking him to meet her at a specific place and time.
  2. Meet Cassian and be cordial and NOT awkward or cold or angry.
  3. After pleasantries (note: make them pleasant!), tell Cassian about needing to tell him something extremely important but first he needs to promise not to tell anyone (note: be thorough so he doesn’t find a loophole)
  4. Tell Cassian about being pregnant with his child and ask if he wants to be involved
  5. See what he says
  6. Remind him not to tell anyone
  7. Say cordial goodbyes and make CLEAR plans as to when to meet again



Okay.

“I guess I should start,” Nesta told herself.

Silently asking her baby to give her some courage, she took a sheet of letter paper and a pen. She began writing, starting with Cassian’s name. As she was writing the first ‘s’ in his name, however, she was hit by an overwhelming wave of nausea. Dropping the pen, she ran to the bathroom, a hand covering her mouth. Clutching the toilet bowl, she dry-heaved into the toilet, making retching sounds despite the lack of vomit. After what felt like 15 minutes, although it may have really been 5 minutes or 30 minutes, Nesta spat and got up. She washed her mouth in the sink and then returned to her desk. She no longer felt like writing the letter. She told herself that she’d write it later, even as an inner voice hissed the word _coward_ at her.

She sighed. She knew she should be doing her laundry, since she would never have enough motivation to do it after a long day at work, but she really wasn’t in the mood.

To be honest, she wasn’t in the mood to do anything. Not even to read a book. She just wanted to curl up in bed with a cup of tea and stare at the wall, but she didn’t feel like going to the kitchen and boiling up water and waiting for the tea leaves to infuse into the water…

She plopped onto the couch in a very undignified manner. She turned her head around, stretching her neck. She recalled all of a sudden that her pregnancy books had recommended that she walk or get some form of moderate exercise each day. When she went to work, she would automatically be getting that exercise from the commute, but on the weekends she would just laze around. Nesta felt that it wasn’t truly necessary yet, since she wasn’t physically all that different, but she also knew that if she didn’t get into the habit of walking on the weekends, she would most definitely not be able to do so when she was bloated, in pain and an emotional wreck. Nesta fought against her desire to stay put. Nesta was nothing if not a strong-willed person, so she soon got up, and put on her shoes and a coat.

* * *

Nesta walked around for about an hour before returning home. As she approached her door, she noticed something lying on the floor. She picked it up. It seemed to be a letter. She opened the door and carried it inside. Sitting down on her sofa, she opened the letter. It said that they were hosting a dinner party next Sunday at the Town House and that she was invited to join them.  
Nesta had no idea how the letter had arrived. Had one of the members of the Inner Circle delivered it personally? Did Velaris have a postal service? Or was it some kind of fae magic? The thought that they knew where she lived frightened her. Nesta had moved into this small house and paid the rent herself. She didn’t want any of them to show up at her door unannounced, like this letter…

Nesta recognized Feyre’s handwriting and felt a familiar pang of guilt. She hadn’t known that Feyre had been illiterate until after Feyre had learned to read and write. One of Nesta’s greatest passions had always been reading and she couldn’t believe she’d deprived Feyre of the same simply because Nesta had been too busy caught up in her own rage and despair to notice.  
Despite this, however, Nesta’s immediate reaction was that she should discard the note and pretend she’d never seen it. Maybe even write back, making up an excuse for why she couldn’t go so that they wouldn’t bother her about it.

She paused. Feyre, Elain, and the rest of the Inner Circle (but mainly her sisters) expected to see her at their gatherings at least once every six months. Nesta knew that after her pregnancy became visible, she wouldn’t be able to go unless she wanted them all to find out. And after her baby was born, she’d be too busy and exhausted. Besides, she wasn’t about to leave her newborn baby all alone.

 _Cassian could watch the baby_ , said a stupidly optimistic voice in Nesta’s head.

 _First off, I haven’t even TOLD Cassian about the baby and I have no idea how he’ll react_ , the darker (dominant) side of Nesta grumbled.

 _You have a pretty good guess what he’ll say though_ , prodded her optimistic side.

 _He’ll want to tell everyone. And he can’t_ , announced the pessimistic side gloomily.

The optimistic side replied hesitantly, _Well, maybe he won’t…_

 _Besides, even if, miraculously, he reacted perfectly, he would obviously be at the dinner or party or whatever, so he wouldn’t be able to watch the baby_ , the dark (and at the moment, logical) side declared. The optimistic side fell silent and Nesta’s internal debate terminated.

Given that Nesta was almost 3 months pregnant, there was no way she could wait for the next invite. If she showed up to this dinner, she wouldn’t arouse too much suspicion by not going for the next 9 months (during her pregnancy & the first 3 months with her baby). However, if she didn’t go, they would almost certainly be suspicious and would come to check on her at the most inopportune time… such as when she’d be in the middle of giving birth.

She would go to this dinner. She’d be civil enough to make sure people wouldn’t become interested in ‘fixing her life’ but cold enough for people not to mistake it as an attempt at friendship.

Now could not be the time for one of them to decide to renew their interest in Nesta. She’d be discrete about the baby and make sure to avoid staying any longer than absolutely necessary.

She’d go to them dinner and make stupid small talk and avoid wine and fights and attention.

And Cassian would be there…

Well, she thought wryly, at least she didn’t have to write that letter to Cassian anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading!  
> Let me know what you thought of this chapter (what you liked, what you disliked, what you want to see more of).  
> I really appreciate kudos and comments of any kind.  
> Plus, kudos and comments encourage me to update faster ;)
> 
> THANK YOU : )


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First off, I'm so sorry about the extremely long wait! Life's been crazy and busy.  
> Secondly, thank you to my lovely beta reader kaykay3441 (on fanfiction.net)! I really appreciate your feedback.  
> Also, as usual, the characters and setting belong to SJMaas (I mean, it is fanfiction...)
> 
> I hope all of you are staying healthy and safe during this coronavirus pandemic! I'm quarantined at home and I'm doing my classes online via zoom. If any of you are ever bored or want to talk, comment something, PM me on fanfiction.net (my username is IvyThalassaLupin) or DM me on Instagram (let me know if you want this and I'll tell you my acc name) ♥️Thank you so much to all the doctors, nurses, grocery store workers, gas station workers, and all the other people on the frontline and those who keep working in order to help the rest of us. I hope everyone you all know are unaffected and that you're all staying strong during this difficult time.
> 
> Thank you for reading this chapter! Don't forget to leave kudos, comments, and to subscribe ♥️(they encourage me to upload faster ;)

Time slipped by like water, the days flowing between Nesta’s fingers without her being able to fully grasp onto them.

Her work continued to add a much-needed spoonful of levity to her day. While most of the customers resembled each other and blurred together in her mind into one wealthy Night Court high fae, Nesta had met a few particularly interesting customers. 

The most notable interaction she’d had was on Friday in the afternoon. There had been quite a few people that day in the boutique, so while Brielle managed the counter with her everlasting smile, Nesta took the less repetitive job of helping customers. Most customers didn’t even need help and if they did, it was usually to find a certain item. Since Nesta had organized the shop, she knew where everything was like the back of her hand (well, the back of her old hand- not the back of the hand of her new strange Fae body). 

“Do you have any towels that would match this apron?” The customer who approached her was a high Fae female. She had defined curves in a way that made Nesta think of Morrigan, but the female’s curves seemed even more defined. This female, however, seemed much less glamorous and more like a woman Nesta could've met on the other side of the Wall when she was still human. 

The customer continued talking in a grating voice as Nesta examined the apron. “I don’t want the towel to be too fancy but it can’t be plain. I mean, it’s a gift. But you see, it’s for this female I know, well, she’s actually my cousin’s mate’s sister.” 

Nesta gestured to the customer, who followed Nesta as they walked towards the section with towels. As they walked, the customer’s absurdly large diamond and opal earrings swung, making a slight clinking noise.

“Anyway, she has just given birth to a healthy baby boy a few months ago. I need to get a towel for her, you know, because the baby still spits up. The apron is for her, of course. She had a fairly easy pregnancy, at least compared to mine, but she still got nauseous so she couldn’t eat some of her favorite meals! I hope yours isn’t too bad?” The customer rambled

Nesta, after a few seconds, realized in horror that the female had recognized that she was pregnant. Hurriedly, Nesta interjected, “No, no, I’m not-”

The customer seemed to not hear her (so much for fae super hearing, Nesta thought wryly) and continued to ramble, as if it had been a rhetorical question. “Now that her son’s getting a bit older, she might start cooking again and she told me so much about the different meals she wanted to make. I wanted to get her a new apron. I also wanted to get something for the baby, because I know that it’ll still be awhile before she can actually use the apron very much, so I thought, why not a towel?” The customer continued to speak while examining the different towels. “I do need the towel to be soft, of course, for the baby’s skin. It should also be easily cleanable and in case the baby chews on it…” At that point, Nesta tuned out. The customer spent about 10 more minutes trying to decide which towel to pick. Nesta ended up convincing her to get two, “in case they need variety” and felt immense relief as she deposed the female at Brielle’s counter. 

Nesta turned around when a whisper-light touch on her shoulder startled her. 

A slim female stood there, wearing a modest dark purple dress. A white, semi-sheer scarf covered her hair and her left hand, which was still extended after tapping Nesta, was encircled by a thin, gold bracelet, the only piece of jewelry Nesta could see on her. 

“Can I help you?” Nesta asked, hoping this female wouldn’t be as boisterous as the last. 

The female hesitated for a moment or two. She then glanced around, checking that no one was very close-by, and began to speak in a very low tone. “I overheard you speaking to that other female just now. About… pregnancy.” She looked at Nesta’s stomach suggestively, causing Nesta to frantically shake her head. 

“No, no, I’m not-”

“Oh! Of course, my mistake. But if you, or some you know, ever need to see a healer to consult about pregnancy…” The female slipped out a card and pressed it into Nesta’s hand. “If anyone ever needs a discrete healer, they should try that one. Most healers who are discrete aren’t reliable in quality but that one is.” The female gave a small, shy smile. “Just in case.”

Nesta nodded. She didn’t know how to respond but opened her mouth anyway. “I-”

“OH! I didn’t know you were here! You should’ve told me!” Brielle said loudly, giving the slim female a hug. Brielle didn’t seem to notice Nesta’s presence and began chatting away with the female, who responded in low tones despite speaking eagerly. 

The female glanced once more at Nesta. 

Brielle followed her gaze. “Nesta, would you mind taking the counter?” Brielle implored. “I just want to catch up with my friend, if you’re okay with that…” 

Nesta gave a quick nod and headed back to the counter. 

* * *

Sunday morning, Nesta awoke at the crack of dawn due to a combination of nerves and nausea. She spent the morning dry heaving until she felt well enough to get in the shower and try to wash away the feeling in her throat that accompanied the morning sickness. She braided her hair in her signature style, then looked through her closet trying to find the perfect outfit for tonight. 

She finally narrowed it down to 2: her usual periwinkle dress or her new dark green velvet dress. 

As she contemplated the pros and cons of each dress, her mind began to wander to the dinner party and all the possible mishaps which could occur. 

She managed to convince herself that most of them were fairly unlikely. Two of her fears, however, refused to dissipate. 

Fear #1: What if they had a fire running?

Fear #2: What if she got nauseous at the party?

Both fears were very realistic. She got nauseous over random foods and smells now. She knew that if that occurred, her sisters would insist upon keeping her with them or at the very least make her see a healer, who would reveal Nesta’s condition to Feyre and Rhysand and Morrigan and Cassian and then Cassian would look at her in that broken, betrayed way that made her heart crack, and then Morrigan would glare at Nesta and put her arms around Cassian and then Nesta would end up lying and saying the baby wasn’t Cassian’s and then the baby would grow up fatherless and Cassian would be deprived from seeing his child and Nesta would be an even bigger monster… 

Desperate to escape her spiraling thoughts, Nesta randomly grabbed a dress and put it on. Glancing at her face in the mirror, she deemed it necessary to apply some makeup. Opening the small cabinet in her bathroom, she extracted the pouch Elain had gifted her containing unopened jars of makeup. Nesta had never applied makeup herself after becoming fae, and before that, she hadn’t had money for such things. Yet before that, in what felt like multiple lifetimes ago, Nesta had been the eldest daughter of a rich merchant. She’d seen her mother meticulously apply makeup to her face each day, varying it to match her dress or jewelry or hairstyle. On some very rare occasions, her mother had permitted Nesta to use her less expensive makeup to play dress-up. Now, Nesta opened the jars, not wanting to highlight her features or look elegantly put-together, but just to hide her puffy eyes and somewhat sickly face. She was able to apply it expertly despite doing it almost unconsciously, her mind a thousand years away. For a moment, she was riding at the front of a ship, wind coursing through her untied hair, like a heroine from one of her novels. Before her lay the ocean, with its ever changing mixture of blues and greens. Then suddenly, far in the distance, the endless seas and the fickle clouds shifted, revealing the slightest silhouette. A new land. It grew larger and larger as the ship approached it and the landscape began to form a clearer shape. Some type of bird was flying towards the ship and-

Nesta hissed as her hand hit the metal faucet with a  _ clang _ , drawing her out of her reverie. 

Stupid Nesta, she scolded herself. There was no use in dwelling on old dreams now. Even then, the dream had been nothing but a fantasy: well-to-do women did not become merchants who sailed the world. Now, having lost her father’s name and her human body, the thought was laughable. Seeing new worlds? Nesta was worried to even wander too far into Velaris, afraid she’d encounter a member of the Inner Circle or even just someone who saw too much. 

Nesta glanced at herself once more. Her makeup, which was unnoticeable unless you knew what Nesta had looked like beforehand, erased her sleepless nights and morning sickness. It seemed she had chosen the dark green velvet dress. As usual, she wore no jewelry, not that she owned very much of that. Nesta grabbed the nicer of her 2 light coats and put on her most comfortable pair of heels: the cream-colored ones she’d gotten herself as a Nesta-stop-being-a-drunken-slut encouragement gift. Pausing one last time at the mirror as she grabbed her keys, she absently remarked that a pair of emerald earrings would have paired nicely with her outfit. Of course, Nesta’s ears were not pierced, nor had they been pierced when she’d been human, and even if they had been, Nesta would not have owned such a thing. 

Nesta locked her door, checking the handle twice to confirm, before starting the, albeit-short, journey to Feyre’s house. 

As her feet carried her to the place which made her want to rip out her insides, Nesta steeled herself. It doesn’t matter what they do or say, she thought. You already know you’re not part of Feyre’s new family. Just play along for one night. Just keep your head down for once. Don’t make an impression. Nesta sighed softly. “I can do this,” she whispered to herself in the glow of the descending sun. For her child, she reminded herself. Her child came before her anger and her pride. So Nesta stood there, in front of the door to the house that brought back all the horrible memories of the people who only looked down on her and of the drunken unfeeling self she’d finally managed to leave behind, and knocked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading this chapter!  
> I hope you enjoyed it.  
> Kudos, subs and ESPECIALLY comments motivate me :) 
> 
> Thank you all for being so patient. I know you were all waiting for Cassian and Nesta to meet... Don't worry! It's coming in the next chapter! I actually considered including part of that in this chapter, but I really wanted to depict Nesta's anticipation and life just progressing as a build up and I also wanted to use a whole chapter to portray the dinner with the Inner Circle. So you guys can look forward to that in the next chapter!
> 
> Thank you for your support ♥️


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, 2020 is turning out to be a super crazy year! Kudos to all of you for getting through everything so far & remember to be kind to yourselves! (more details at the end) 
> 
> Thank you to my wonderful beta reader kaykay3441!  
> Thank you to everyone who commented!
> 
> If any of you want to talk: my Tumblr is @sayosdreams.
> 
> Thank you all for reading!
> 
> Please leave comments (they encourage me to write) & kudos!

The door swung open and Nesta was greeted by Elain's delighted face.

"Nesta!" she exclaimed, wrapping her arms around her elder sister, a grin blossoming across her mouth. Nesta stiffened instinctively, not used to being touched. However, as Elain pulled back, Nesta gave her a small smile that made Elain positively beam.

Elain handed Nesta's coat to the maid - was her name Nuala? - and linked her arm with Nesta's, guiding her to the dining room where the Inner Circle was gathered. From the hallway, Nesta could hear everyone laughing, smiling and joking playfully with one another. A few moments after her entrance, however, the room fell silent.

Shoving her nerves down, Nesta put on her favorite mask - that of the cold, uncaring, sharp woman with nothing to lose.

 _Stand up straight_ , her mother's voice hissed in her memory. _Slouching makes you look weak._

Painfully aware that Rhysand and Feyre could tear through her mind and hear all her thoughts on a whim, she pushed the thoughts of her secret - of her child - to the back of head, mixed with painful memories that would surely make them recoil or at least wince, should they attempt to view that most intimate and personal part of her.

After a few moments of awkward silence, Nesta rested her eyes on her youngest sister, who was practically attached to her husband, and announced as a way of greeting, "Feyre."

Feyre smiled slightly. "Nesta. I'm so glad to see you here."

"You invited me," Nesta replied impassively. It was the only way to reply truthfully. Was she glad to be there? No. Nesta would literally rather be anywhere else. Was she glad to see Feyre? No, Nesta wasn't eager to be judged.

The room stood in another uncomfortable silence that made Nesta's new fae skin crawl.

In a last ditch attempt to break it, Nesta searched for something, anything to say.

"You look," Nesta began then paused to look around the room and back at Feyre. The room, which was larger than their whole house back in the Human Lands, was decorated with luxurious materials and ornamental artifacts. The necklace that hung between Feyre's breasts was more valuable than anything her family had owned, including her mother's wedding ring, even when her father's merchant business was booming and the Archerons were one of the richest families in the Human Lands. Feyre's dress, which Feyre had probably had made for her by one of the maids, was 70% see-through; yet Nesta, being the daughter of a merchant, knew that the material of Feyre's dress was worth at least half a year's worth of food for a family of four. Feyre looked like a completely different person. Well, she was, wasn't she? She was no longer even a person. Still, even Nesta knew that telling Feyre that she looked like a spoiled princess who knew nothing of the outside world would, at the very least, cause drama. Particularly since Nesta, who had sat back while Feyre hunted and who had spent all her money on alcohol, really had no right to tell Feyre what to do with her money. Even if it was really Rhysand's money- well, actually, the Night Court's money.

So Nesta ended her sentence with the word "well."

Feyre did look well. Well rested and well fed, well taken care of and well treated. Really, if Feyre and Rhysand felt that the people of the Night Court were all well-educated and well-off enough for the Inner Circle to spend their money on frivolous things, then that was none of Nesta's business.

Feyre looked hurt and disappointed by Nesta's tone of voice.

No shock there, Nesta thought to herself. She was always disappointing Feyre. Couldn't Feyre just get used to it?

Morrigan scoffed and declared with a smirk, "I'll get some more wine", as if Nesta couldn't hear her. Could no one else see that the beautiful, kind and perfect Mor was actually terribly cruel?

Elain, bless her soul, filled the room with some neutral chatter about her garden and soon the awkward tension in the air dissipated.

The members of the Inner Circle began to talk, chatting about everything from Feyre's painting studio to Azriel's shadows. The males jokingly ribbed one another about their wingspans.

They then began to discuss recent events. Nesta inferred from the teasing and jokes that the Inner Circle had been out partying with members of the day court and then both courts had suffered the next morning at a meeting with the 3 solar courts. Apparently, Feyre had had the most trouble the next morning, while Amren had not been affected at all. Nesta, of course, had not attended said event. From context, however, she was glad she had not been invited. Being fakely friendly to other courts in order to establish diplomatic relationships was not something she enjoyed in the slightest.

The Inner Circle then moved on to teasing each other about other topics, most of which passed over Nesta's head. She had no idea what to make of the fact that 'Feyre's shoe-throwing skills' were excellent, Mor and Amren's arguments were 'more frightening than scaling Ramiel' or that Cassian staying away from the Summer Court 'would be better to ensure that both the structural integrity of buildings and the number of rubies in the Night Court's vault remain unchanged'.

So she sat there, clenching her hands together in order to make sure that she did not accidentally touch her stomach and bring attention to it. She was silent, wondering why they'd invited her when they really did not want or need her company. Yet she regretted such thoughts when the words, "I'm sure Nesta would agree" came out of Feyre's mouth.

Nesta suddenly realized that she'd been far too unappreciative of the peace that accompanied them overlooking her presence. Now she would have to actually listen to their conversations and talk without offending any of these easily offended people who hated her.

Nesta tuned in to the conversation Feyre had unfortunately decided to include her in. Apparently, it was about different places in Velaris that the members of the Inner Circle liked. Feyre's comment had been that Nesta would agree that Feyre had been obsessed with stars from a young age, justifying Feyre's love of a certain ballroom which had a glass roof so that dancers could see the stars at night. Nesta had to admit that Feyre's comment had been relatively neutral, although perhaps it had been a gibe at how Feyre had had to work to get money to paint stars on her drawer while Nesta had done nothing.

Nesta sighed internally as the others talked, winking and nudging each other both physically and verbally. They laughed and teased and probed, replying with witty comments and sarcastic smirks like perfectly timed dance that they'd been performing for centuries. Which, Nesta supposed, was accurate, given that they were all over 500 years old and had been together for most of that time. Feyre and Elain were obviously exceptions, but Elain had never had any trouble integrating herself into a group and Feyre was their High Lady / best friend / mate / pseudo-sister. Feyre considered the Inner Circle to be her real family while she considered Nesta to be a burden that she was attached to by the ties of her long-gone human genes. This was obvious by the way Feyre had painted portraits of every single other person in the room and displayed said paintings in the foyer, while Nesta's was noticeably absent. Although maybe, Nesta thought wryly, it was not noticeable to Feyre. Or perhaps Feyre had not had any inspiration; after all, all the paintings highlighted the person's positive attributes, be it Elain's kind face, Rhysand's majestic stature, Morrigan's joyful outspoken confidence, or Azriel's quiet support. Maybe Feyre simply couldn't think of any positive features of Nesta.

The conversation continued as the gang moved to the dining room. Morrigan spoke at length about the fabulousness of Rita's. It seemed to be a dance club / tavern / bar. Nesta had been invited there once (though she had refused) but had heard the others talk about going to Rita's fairly frequently while before she'd moved out. Nesta sat across from Elain and next to Azriel. A wise seating choice, really, considering they were the only two that she could look at for more than a few minutes without wanting to scream.

"Maybe we should diversify our choice of bar," Feyre stated after Morrigan finished recounting yet another misadventure that had occurred at Rita's. She turned to her eldest sister. "Nesta, you have experience in that area, don't you? Where would you recommend?"

Rhysand was smirking openly.

Of course Feyre would ask Nesta where to drink alcohol, because that's all Feyre thought she did. Drink, sleep with male, eat, repeat. Feyre had never seen Nesta as a person with interests and passions and fears, but rather as a cold and cruel minor villain in her story. Now, she was nothing but a drunken slut in her sister's eyes. Nesta already knew Feyre viewed her that way, so she really should not have felt something inside her deflate. Ignoring the slight, Nesta thought for a moment, trying to remember a nice bar she'd been to. It was difficult, since it had been months since she'd been to any but maybe-

"Trust me, none of the places she frequents are worthy of a high lady," Morrigan whispered loudly to Feyre in a joking tone, as if the whole table couldn't hear her. The corners of Feyre's mouth tilted upwards.

Mor added in a slightly lower tone, "I doubt she even remembers the locations the next morning, considering." Rhysand failed miserably at disguising his laughter as a cough.

"Why are you trying to avoid going to a different bar, Mor? Is there something that's captivated your interest at Rita's? Or should I say someone?" Cassian teased.

Rhysand added something in a tone so low even Nesta's fae hearing couldn't pick up.

Morrigan let out a bright, booming laugh at whatever comment Rhysand had made, shooting Nesta a glance. Clearly he'd made a comment about her.

"How are you, girl?" Amren, who was seated next to Elain, asked Nesta, ignoring the others.

"I'm fine," Nesta replied in a curt yet somewhat polite tone.

"Are you sure? Do you need me to send you more money for your rent?" Feyre interjected, concerned. As if Nesta were Feyre's younger sister. Nesta resisted the urge to roll her eyes and tell Feyre that she'd lied about how she'd moved to a cheaper house and that she hadn't touched Feyre's money in months. Nesta wondered absently how to discreetly return the money to Feyre without her noticing.

"I'm fine," Nesta repeated.

"Really?" Feyre pressed. "You're very thin, Nesta. You need to eat properly."

Out of the corner of her eye, Nesta saw Morrigan wrap her arm around Cassian's shoulders.

"I don't want you to worry about not being able to afford enough food," Feyre continued, as if they were alone. Nesta tried to take a deep breath, willing her face not to blush in humiliation. "I have enough money now. Oh, also, I'll give you the rent for next month right after dinner, okay? Please let me add a bit more, just to make sure you're properly fed."

Nesta wanted to hurl that Feyre wasn't her mother and she needed to stop being so condescending, especially in front of all these people. But Nesta also knew that Feyre considered all these people to be her family and saw no difference between advising Nesta in front of Elain and in front of the entire Inner Circle.

"I'm fine," Nesta gritted. "And I don't need any extra money."

"Yeah," Morrigan grinned, "I'm sure she doesn't need to make the bartenders any richer."

Feyre gave her friend a small smile that she probably thought Nesta couldn't see, and turned to talk to Amren.

Nesta clenched her fists. She hadn't come to be insulted by Morrigan. Morrigan had no power or relation to her and Nesta wasn't going to let her berate her without consequence.

"At least I don't pit orphaned brothers against each other by playing with their hearts and still have the audacity to call myself their friend," Nesta hissed at Morrigan before calmly continuing her food.

Morrigan snorted. Eyes flashing, she replied, "No, of course not. You treat your friends with utmost respect. Remind me again, how many friends do you have?"

Nest ignored her, eyes on her plate.

"That's right. None," Mor laughed cruelly.

Nesta's eyes flitted to Cassian, who was engaged in a quiet conversation with Rhysand, seemingly ignoring the dispute between the female who had an arm around him and the female who carried his child.

"Actually," Nesta couldn't stop herself from retorting, "I happen to have friends."

If Brielle was considered a friend and not just a colleague…

Mor rolled her eyes. "Sure. You do realize that one night stands don't count, right?"

Nesta couldn't help but flinch, recalling her one night with Cassian.

"Honestly, Nesta," Mor continued, "Aren't you a little too old for imaginary friends?"

Nesta opened her mouth, a sharp riposte on the tip of her tongue when she was abruptly reminded of how this sort of argument (that could easily escalate, especially now that Feyre seemed to be about to join in and Rhysand was starting to glance at Mor) was exactly what she'd wanted to avoid. So she swallowed her pride and a bite of food, choosing to now remain silent.

* * *

One hour later, as the gang moved to the living room once more, Nesta realized with entirely too much satisfaction that she'd managed to keep her newfound vow of silence. The others had switched between a variety of topics, at first making sure to include small 'jokes', more accurately described as insults clearly aimed at Nesta. However, as time progressed, Nesta seemed to turn completely invisible to them. Which had been exactly what she'd wanted, Nesta reminded herself. There was no need to feel any sort of pain when Cassian's eyes swept over her before finding Mor, with whom Cassian wished to speak. There was no need for Nesta to care that Elain was engrossed in a soft conversation with Azriel and had seemingly forgotten about the presence of her older sister. Or that Amren and Feyre were drinking and laughing with Rhysand, not noticing the lack of drink in Nesta's hand. No, really, it couldn't have been more perfect, Nesta told herself. This was what she'd wanted.

Suddenly, an old childhood memory of her mother reading her a bedtime story came to mind.

"Be careful what you wish for," her mother had read out before closing the book. It had been a thick, large green tome but Nesta couldn't remember the title at all. At the time, Nesta had smiled. Wishes were wondrous things and it couldn't hurt to wish, Nesta had thought. A few years later, with her mother buried and her father destroyed, Nesta had scoffed. Who cares what you wish for? It's not as if wishes ever come true. Now, as Nesta sat in her sister's fancy house, surrounded but more alone than in her house, Nesta felt that she was finally beginning to understand her mother's tale.

Finally, when it was a somewhat acceptable time to consider the evening finished, Nesta stood up, muttering something about going to the bathroom despite the fact that no one was listening. Stepping out into the hallway, she released a breath she hadn't realized she was holding.

Ever since she'd become fae, Nesta had been accompanied by the vague yet persistent sensation that she did not belong. In Feyre's house, that feeling was stronger than ever; the walls seemed to be yelling at her that she was unwanted and that she should leave.

There was no real reason for her to stay. It wasn't as if anyone would notice her absence.

If she was going to leave, she should probably do it now, before anyone came out into the hallway. Plus, Nesta told herself, this way she could avoid Feyre paying her. Judging by the number of drinks her sister had had at dinner, and the way she was pouring herself another, Feyre most likely would not remember such a minor detail of the night.

Nesta began heading towards the door, when she suddenly remembered her coat. Normally, Nesta would not have hesitated: a coat was a small price to pay for the relief of leaving early. But now she had another person to think about, and leaving her coat was unwise from both a monetary and health standpoint. She looked around for a closet but couldn't see one.

She was so preoccupied with finding the closet in order to leave that she didn't even realize that anyone else had stepped into the hallway until her shoulder banged into Cassian's hard back.

Cassian turned around to face her just as Nesta whipped her face in his direction to see what she'd stumbled into.

"Hey Nes," he grinned.

She didn't respond. Unfortunately, she had just recalled that she needed to talk to Cassian alone and this was her only chance unless she wanted to actually write him a letter. Honestly, the option was seeming better and better.

Nesta dug her nails into her palm. She couldn't keep avoiding her issues forever - her issue, in this case, being the Illyrian male before her.

"Y'okay?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

She nodded curtly.

"Nice dress," he noted. "Wouldn't 've thought you'd wear green. Although I suppose it makes sense."

Nesta stayed silent, due to both her confusion at his words and her inner struggle to work up the courage to say what she needed to say.

Cassian continued jokingly, "I mean, you obviously wanted to display your love to nature and 'Illyrian brutes'. Don't worry Nes, I-"

"Are you busy next sunday around 3 pm?" Nesta asked, interrupting him.

He blinked. He opened his mouth once and closed it again before opening it once more to reply, "What?"

"Are you busy at that time?" Nesta repeated.

Cassian answered slowly, "I'm not busy."

"Great," she said with much more confidence than she felt. "Meet me at Lucynthia's then."

Cassian looked dumbfounded and stood there in confused silence for a few seconds. He then opened his mouth to say something, but Nesta, fearing an undesired question, interjected, "You do know where Lucynthia's is, right?"

Cassian nodded slowly.

"Okay, great, so we can meet then," she declared.

Cassian furrowed his eyebrows. "We can, but-"

Nesta interrupted him once more. "By the way, where's the coat closet?"

Cassian pointed towards the small hallway next to the door. "First door to the right," he said absently.

Nesta nodded. Then she stated, "Don't tell the others about next weekend."

He looked even more perplexed.

Nesta would not beg. She kept her facade of confidence, but Cassian seemed to understand the plea in her eyes that their meeting be kept secret.

"I- Alright," he said. "But why-"

"Cassian?" Feyre called out from the living room.

"Cass?" Morrigan repeated.

Cassian turned his head towards the living room before glancing back at Nesta, clearly hesitating.

Once more, Nesta recalled that any relationship she could form with Cassian would always come after not only his loyalty to his High Lord and Lady and his pseudo-brother Azriel, but also his bond with Morrigan. Before she moved out, the Inner Circle had pestered her non-stop about what she should say or do with Cassian and what interaction she'd had with him and how she felt and how he felt about everything. Yet, no one had bothered to tell her the story of what exactly had happened between Cassian, Morrigan and Azriel. Still, Nesta had once been a member of high society in the human lands, and knew how to string rumors and references and points of tension together to get an understanding of what had happened.

Nesta knew that Cassian and Morrigan had slept together while Morrigan was engaged. The engagement had been to some High Lord's son and had been entirely against Morrigan's wishes. Morrigan had thus lost her virginity to Cassian, rendering her engagement nul. Apparently her ex and his family had reacted pretty violently when they found out. Rhysand had gotten angry at Cassian as well, apparently causing a fight. Azriel, who pined over Mor, gave up his stake and decided to be content with loving her from afar. There were different rumors about whether Mor and Cassian had ever slept together again and about whether Mor was in love with Cassian or Azriel. While Cassian had been with many others over the years, he had never gotten over his love for Morrigan.

Even if Cassian decided to be there for their child, the Inner Circle's needs would always be his priority.

"Cass!" Morrigan's voice rang out once more.

Cassian's eyes were full of regret as he began, "I need to-"

Nesta nodded quickly, clearing her throat softly.

Cassian turned and walked towards the living room. After taking a few steps, he seemed to realize that Nesta hadn't moved.

"Aren't you coming?" Cassian asked, his voice tinged with slight confusion.

Nesta shook her head. "It's getting late. I need to get back to my house."

Cassian nodded. "Okay."

Nesta turned around and walked towards the coat closet.

"Wait," he called out.

She stopped walking, but didn't turn around.

"It's dark outside. Do you need me to fly you home? Or walk?" he added.

"No," she answered. She resumed walking and murmured a quiet, "Bye."

In the periphery of her vision, she saw Cassian wave.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! Thank you all so much for reading! Don't forget to comment & leave kudos!
> 
> Now just to elaborate a little more about everything going on right now:  
> Although I am not black, as a PoC living in the US, the Black Lives Matter is one that is close to my heart. I can only do my part to help combat the systemic racism in our country, but I am doing my best to educate myself and those around me as well as to help any way I can. For anyone who is interested, I'll send you the link to resources to get informed/help. I also designed a BLM t-shirt, with all the profit being donated to help end police brutality in America (let me know if you're interested). If there are any suggestions you have for what I should do to help more, or if you have any questions, please comment & I'll respond to the best of my ability. I'm here for all of you during this difficult time as we fight for change that should have happened long ago.
> 
> I'm also aware that some people (including me!) are still in quarantine. I know personally that it has been difficult from a mental health standpoint (and in other ways). HMU if you ever want to talk!  
> I've been reading a lot of fan fiction on ao3 to get me through this time. It helps me to stay motivated, not feel as lonely, and be distracted from the craziness in the real world. I hope I've been able to do that for some of you.  
> I know that I originially said that I'd update in a few weeks, and it's been over a month... sorry! I just finished 11th grade and I'm starting 12th soon, so the workload isn't getting any lighter. Hopefully I'll be able to upload another chapter next month!
> 
> Thanks to all of you for reading! I appreciate each and every one of you!
> 
> Please leave comments :)


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello!  
> First, thank you to everyone who left kudos and comments! Thanks to my beta, kaykay3441 on ff.net.  
> You guys may have noticed that my chapters are getting longer. I might later restructure the earlier chapters and combine a few of them. I planned out (more specifically) what I want to do and I think there will be about 23 chapter.  
> I'm so excited about the release of the Nessian book title! What did you guys think?  
> Anyway, without further ado, here's the chapter!

On monday, Nesta woke up without the slightest queasiness. Instead, her legs and chest felt sore and she was overall just feeling very warm. Which was odd, considering the fact that she was usually cold. Drinking a glass of water, Nesta decided that it was a welcome change.

She glanced through her kitchen, making a note to buy some raspberries (clearly they were essential to her diet: why hadn’t she noticed how absolutely incredible raspberries were?). She ate a bowl of cereal which had a strange aftertaste of metal, but was supposedly healthy. The pregnancy books that she returned to the library that afternoon after work had informed her how important her diet was. Still, not even Nesta’s iron will or limited budget could stop her from buying a piece of chocolate along with a box of raspberries at the marketplace on her way to work that morning. There was no one to scold or judge that Nesta’s lunch of salad and chocolate seemed to be contractradicting, for Brielle only grinned at Nesta’s choice of dessert. 

* * *

Nesta began her Tuesday by staring into a bucket, realizing that the relief she’d felt yesterday at her lack of nausea had unfortunately been only temporarily. She managed to eat a slice of toast for breakfast, but she regretted that as soon as she got to work. Nesta tried to be discreet about her queasiness in order to not disturb the customers, but Brielle seemed to notice, and asked if Nesta preferred to rest for a while. Nesta insisted that she was fine, but agreed to sit down and drink some water. Miraculously, that actually helped, and by 1 pm she was chatting idly with Brielle. Though they were really only exchanging a few sentences between customers — the number of customers had grown so much that the shop was almost always busy — but the small talk was still education as Nesta learned Brielle’s favorite color along with her birthday. 

* * *

Wednesday was the half-day that Brielle and Nesta had agreed upon. Home once more, Nesta plopped onto her bed. She was overcome with both the desire to do something — anything — and the reluctance to move even a single inch. Opening the book on her nightstand, she was hit by a truckload of information about how to regulate her diet and what to start thinking about to prepare for the baby to arrive, despite it still being months away. Though the books she’d borrowed had lots of information (and at times the info even seemed to contradict itself — how was she supposed to rest and get exercise at the same time in the later months?), they all stated that it was vital to get a healer’s opinion and to follow their advice. Nesta bit her lip. The only healer she’d met in the Night Court was Madja. There was no way she was going to see that healer! Letting out a sound halfway between a sigh and a grunt, Nesta reluctantly accepted the insurmountable reality that she would, in fact, be forced to get up. She walked to the table where she had placed the card that the customer had given her last week. 

The card read: 

_Galen (Healer) - Qualifications on back_

_32 Mahina Avenue_

_L’Estelle, Velaris, Night Court_

_By appointment only (Few exceptions)_

Nesta had no idea who this healer was or who the female customer was who had given her the card, but Brielle seemed to trust her. Besides, Nesta did not know any other healers in Velaris. 

The card had said that she needed an appointment. How was she supposed to do that? Since the only information provided was an address, she was probably supposed to write a letter requesting to meet with the healer— or was she expected to winnow there? Nesta didn’t know how to winnow but, embarrassingly, she also did not know how to send a letter in Velaris. She’d never had the need to do so before. Nesta knew she should have asked Brielle, but it was too late now. She really wanted to get it done today, before she could overthink it and change her mind. Nesta quickly wrote a letter. Well, as quickly as she could while doubting every single word she placed on paper. How was she supposed to address this healer? What was proper etiquette here? She didn’t want to sound rude or desperate but also not cold or fakely cheerful. 

Clutching her letter, she decided to get over herself and just ask a random stranger where the post office was. Someone she knew she’d never see again, so that them thinking she was stupid wouldn’t matter. As she wandered the street, deciding who to ask, she passed by the mediocre bar/restorant she’d never been to before. Ignoring the sudden urge to just take a shot to soothe her nerves, she asked the waiter where she could mail a letter. The waiter raised an eyebrow, looking her up and down, but pointed in a direction and gave her a few instructions. Nesta muttered a quiet “thanks” as she quickly escaped the tempting lure of her poison. 

The post office was nothing like in the human realms. Really, it was just a room with four high fae workers, three male and one female, sat, talking to one another. On one wall was a painting of a beach, on the other was a stunning landscape with cliffs, while the back wall was filled with maps. 

“Hello!” The female stood up to greet her. “Where are you going today?”

Nesta resisted the urge to ask what the hell was going on, and instead replied, “I was told I could mail a letter here?”

One of the males got up. He scoffed, giving his male coworkers a look that made them snicker and stare at Nesta. Great. They were making fun of her. The female took the letter from her and handed it to the male.

Glancing at the address, his brow furrowed even more. 

“This is in Velaris,” he informed her. 

Nesta didn’t respond, because there was nothing to say. 

“Why don’t you just winnow there yourself?” he asked, glancing at her ears, covered by her hair. 

“I’m not sure exactly where it is,” Nesta responded. There was no need to inform the male that she couldn’t winnow. Nesta had thought that not all fae possessed the ability to winnow, but perhaps that wasn’t true. 

“We’ll take care of it for you,” the female interjected hurriedly. 

One of the males who was still sitting muttered something. It was low enough that Nesta only caught the word “foreign”. 

The male who’d stood up sat down once more. “Well, go on then,” he smirked. 

Nesta hesitated, unsure who the male was talking to. Was she just supposed to leave? She was not sure her letter would actually get delivered. How could she trust these males that were basically asking to be kicked where the sun doesn’t shine? 

The female disappeared.

Nesta blinked, stood still for a few moments, then took two steps towards the door.

“All done!” came the female’s voice. 

Nesta nodded her thanks to the female and quickly exited the building, pretending not to feel the female’s eyes trailing her receding figure or hear the males’ mocking voices.

* * *

At work on thursday, the female who had given Nesta the information about the healer stopped by the boutique. This time, the female wore a large hat that hid her hair, ears, and most of her forehead. Instead of shopping, she just stopped by, exchanged a few words with Brielle, and left, giving Nesta a half-smile of acknowledgement when she saw her. 

At the end of the day, Nesta enquired “How do you know that female? The one that wore the hat?” 

Brielle looked up from her accounting notebook. “Oh, you mean Khoniya? She’s one of few people I can call a friend. We met- well, it’s a bit complicated, but basically I used to live with my aunt’s family down in the southwest of the Night Court, not too far from the border with the Day Court. Well, I say not far, but I mean it would still take us a few days to reach the border- but anyway, as I was saying, I lived there as a child after my parents died. After everything with Amarantha was over, I returned there and stayed during the war with Hybern and all that. About a year and a half ago, my aunt started considering opening a new shop. Velaris is the dream, of course, and after everything that happened, she decided to just go for it. I also decided to go for it.” Brielle paused.

“I love my family, and I can never thank my aunt enough for taking me and my brother in when we were kids. But my brother already left before everything happened, and I stayed behind and I realized how long it’s been. This was my chance to finally live, you know? But I didn’t know Velaris very well when I first arrived so I didn’t…”

Brielle bit her lip. 

Nesta hesitantly offered, “You don’t have to continue if you don’t want to.”

Brielle shook her head. “No, no. Nothing happened, really. I just had this idealized image of Velaris in my head. It’s hard not to, right? It’s the City of Dreams. But, well, I wanted to go for a walk at night to see the stars. I ran into some, ah, people who said some rather unpleasant things. Some of them were inebriated, some not. I was just trying to get home after that, but I kind of lost my way, and I didn’t want anyone else to, um, talk to me, so I was looking down and literally bumped into Khoniya. I didn’t realize it, but I guess I was crying. Khoniya took me to her place and let me stay the night. She and Elian helped me alot after that. So, yeah, that’s how we became friends.” Brielle laughed suddenly. “Sorry my story got so long.”

“No, no, thank you for telling me,” Nesta replied quickly.

Brielle smiled. Her eyes sparkled suddenly. “Actually, Nesta, I was thinking of having Khoniya over for dinner on Saturday. Not this coming weekend, the one after that weekend. If you’re comfortable, I’d love to have you over as well.”

Nesta started. “I wouldn’t want to impose,” she replied.

“I’d really love to have you, and I think Khoniya would want to get to know you,” Brielle assured. Still, in typical Brielle fashion, she gave Nesta a way out, saying, “Although I’m sure you’re busy and tired so I understand if you’d rather spend some time relaxing.” 

Nesta surprised herself by saying, “I’d love to go, actually, if you’re sure.” Brielle smiled back at her.

Friday and Saturday blurred together as work progressed in typical fashion. Nesta suggested that they get another mannequin, because whatever clothing items they placed on the mannequin did well. After viewing Nesta’s notes of what they’d placed on the mannequin on different days and comparing them with Brielle’s notes of how much of each item had sold on different days, Brielle had agreed. 

* * *

Then came Sunday, the day Nesta had dreadfully awaited. 

She ate some soothing food in the morning and silently asked her baby to please not make her vomit that day. At 2 pm, she decided to leave the house even though she wasn’t supposed to meet Cassian until 3 and Lucynthia’s was only a 25 minute walk from her house. As she exited her house, she saw a letter lying in front of the door. Her stomach suddenly filled with dread at the letter that was most likely from Feyre. She really was not in the mood right now for her sister to berate her under the guise of concern. She needed to be calm, she couldn’t deal with this. Nesta’s muscles tensed, yet the envelope in her hand was shaking. She realized that a slight tremor ran through her arm. Nesta was about to shove the letter into her house, when she noticed the return address. It was from the healer she’d been trying to contact. Nesta shakily took a deep breath to calm her nerves, then another, and one last one. Then she opened the envelope, and began walking as she read the letter that was inside.

_Nesta Archeron,_

_Hello. Thank you for contacting me regarding your pregnancy._

_I do indeed have a vacancy next week during the hours you mentioned._

_Please come on Wednesday, at 3 in the afternoon._

_You mentioned in your letter that you are around 14-15 weeks pregnant due to the conception date. You did not mention whether you are planning on keeping the child, but I will assume so, since you wrote that you need a healer throughout your pregnancy. Please let me know if my assumption was incorrect._

_If you do want to keep the baby, I will perform some magic in order to sense the state of your child (age, health, position in womb, etc.) The sex of the child cannot be detected until at least 20 weeks._

_You also mentioned briefly that there may potentially be some complications due to your health. I will ask you to elaborate on that during the appointment and I may need to perform some examinations to check your health as well._

_Please let me know if all of this is to your satisfaction._

_I will happily cater to your needs. Please feel free to bring your significant other(s), family or friend(s) to the appointment. However, I will ask you not to spread the word to too many people. I have a policy of confidentiality between myself and the patient. While some other healers practice this, most feel obligated to divulge information to people in positions of power (High Lords, Priestesses, etc.) I do not want to come into conflict with such people because I want to continue healing in the Night Court. I will explain that to whomever accompanies you, but I wanted you to know that that is my request. If you have any questions or concerns, please let me know. If there is someone else who requires a discrete healer, you may give that person my information, but please use your judgment wisely._

_If my policies make you uncomfortable, and you do not wish to continue as my patient, please let me know. I will completely understand. If you agree to the terms, let me know as well._

_I have enclosed a sheet of paper that is linked to a paper in my possession. Anything you write will instantly appear on my paper. Please write back immediately or as soon as possible. Thank you._

_Sincerely, Healer S. Galen_

Nesta arrived at Lucynthia’s thirty minutes early. The medium-sized cafe was a more casual version of the sort of place Nesta and Elain dreamed of going to as kids. It had a small garden out front, with carefully trimmed, flower-filled vines framing the windows. Inside, there were a few hanging plants. The place was bright, and was filled with the delectable aroma of tea and pastries. Nesta explained to the waiter that she was going to wait for someone who wouldn’t arrive for at least the next 30 minutes, but she still wanted a table for two. After being seated, Nesta extracted the blank paper the healer had sent her and wrote a few sentences confirming her agreement and that she was in fact keeping the baby. 

A few minutes later, Nesta’s words disappeared, and were replaced by the healer’s.

_Nesta Archeron,_

_I’m looking forward to seeing you!_

_As I wrote before, the appointment will be at 3 pm on Wednesday._

_Please come to the address:_

_1203 Errapel Lane_

_Elysium River Valley, Velaris, Night Court_

_If you need assistance with transportation, please let me know._

_\- Healer S. Galen_

Nesta glanced at the clock: she still had over 15 minutes left.

Putting away the paper, she extracted a book from her bag. Instead of the pregnancy books she had been reading lately, this was a novel. The main characters were twin orphans: a girl, who was turned into a siren, and a boy, who became an artisan. He fell in love with the prince of a foreign kingdom, where the land was cursed to never rain and fresh water was used as currency. Nesta had reached the part where the boy, who decided to reunite with his lover, was sailing the seas as a stowaway on a trade ship when a storm appeared. Harmonious voices filled the air, and suddenly men began jumping off the ship. Once the captain had jumped, it was only a matter of time before the ship crashed into the rocks, sending all of its contents into the deep sea. The girl had encountered the unconscious body of her brother and was struggling to remember why he looked so familiar when Nesta looked up at the sound of the door opening. A sideways glance at the clock informed her that it was exactly 3 pm. Cassian was right on time. 

He sat down across the small, round table. 

“Hello sweetheart,” he grinned, in his deep rumbling voice.

Nesta regretfully placed her book in her bag.

His melodious voice continued, “As much as I enjoy being asked to secret rendez-vous with beautiful females, I’d love to know what prompted this particular one. ‘Cause you know, if you just wanted to hang out with me, you don’t need to plan it ahead of time,” he winked suggestively. Still, his eyes showed that past his facade of lighthearted flirting, he was generally uncertain and maybe even slightly nervous. 

“Thank you for coming,” she said stiffly. She hesitated for a moment, debating whether or not to look him in the eye. Everything in her screamed at her to look anywhere except those hazel eyes, to not let him see too much. Still, rationally, she knew that she had to let him in and let him see the importance of her request. 

Nesta licked her lips. Fuck. Why hadn’t she practiced this? Nesta had never been eloquent in speech. She had none of Elain’s sweet grace or Feyre’s inspiring, powerful tone. Her words came out too cold, too sharp, too brutal, a mixture of the raging storm inside and her unmovable placid mask. She didn’t know how to be soft or even just open and raw. The walls she’d built as a shield felt more and more like a prison. She had no idea how to escape even now. 

“Cassian,” she began before pausing to swallow the lump in her throat. She was not nervous. She couldn’t be nervous because she didn’t care how Cassian would react. Because she and the baby would be just fine without him. It didn’t matter what he chose, it didn’t matter if he thought his family with the Inner Circle was more important. Nesta didn’t care at all. 

No matter how many times she told herself this, her pulse wouldn’t slow down. 

“I-” she forced herself to meet his eyes. His face was curious, confused and slightly worried most likely due to her tone. Nesta never hesitated when she spoke. Her words were swords she wielded with precision. Cassian brow creased slightly.

Nesta tilted her chin upwards imperceptibly. It was a trick she’d taught herself as a child to stop herself from crying or screaming. It was how she’d faced everyday after her mother had fallen ill. It was how she got through her father’s ruin and her mother’s death and her sister’s kidnapping and how she had faced death without breaking. 

She spoke with the courage she’d gathered, the one that got her through everything, even though a million voices were yelling at her that she would sound too needy or too cold or too manipulative, that she was _such a bitch_ , _unloveable_ , _a monster_. 

“I need to tell you something,” she declared, looking him in the eye. “It’s really important. And I think you need to know. You deserve,” she blinked while saying the word deserve in order to avoid looking him in the eye for that one embarrassing word that revealed how she viewed him, “to know.” 

Cassian’s face was uncharacteristically serious.

She continued after a breath, “I want to tell you. No matter what you decide, I want you to know. But first, I need you to- I mean you-” 

Her eyes darted across the room before meeting his once more.

“I need you to promise me not to tell anyone,” Nesta proclaimed.

Cassian opened his mouth once, closed it again. Nesta felt something in her clench painfully.

“I promise,” Cassian replied in a low voice. Perhaps sensing her hesitation, he added, “Nesta, you can tell me anything. I will keep it in absolute confidence as you requested.”

Nesta glanced down at the table. What she really wanted to do was close her eyes. Somehow, she was simultaneously filled with adrenaline and extremely exhausted by this meeting. 

_You say that now but once you find out what it is you’ll hate me_ , she thought to herself, unable to voice it. 

“I need you to swear,” is what she decided to say instead. “I need you to swear not to tell anyone for at least one year. Not Feyre, not Rhysand, not Morrigan, not Azriel. No one. You can’t tell Elain or Amren either.” She let her words sink in before repeating, “I need you to swear it.”

His eyes were as serious as that day that felt like centuries ago yet sometimes haunted her like it was yesterday. As his lips uttered the words, “I swear it, Nesta Archeron” , she was reminded of the promise he had made that day, when they were both willing to die. 

Ignoring the tiny devil on her shoulder that whispered that Cassian had not really kept that promise, Nesta observed him.

Cassian was usually one of two extremes: a carefree, bright and flirtatious male or a ruthless Commander known most commonly as the Lord of Bloodshed. She had no idea whether both of those represented some part of him or whether one of them felt like a facade. The male before her had the seriousness of the General of the Night Court’s armies, yet the caring look in his eyes made it impossible to forget his kindness. 

She didn’t want that to disappear from his eyes. She didn’t want him to look at her with betrayal. Just the thought made Nesta want to vomit. 

He sat still, a hand on his heart, giving her time. He didn’t pressure her and for some reason that made Nesta want to cry.

“Okay,” she breathed, her shoulders slumping. She took a moment to compose herself before straightening, wearing her rigid, perfect posture like armor. 

Staring right into his eyes, she announced, “I’m pregnant.” 

Cassian froze. A million emotions seemed to pass through his eyes. His lips parted slightly. 

Unable to resist it any longer, Nesta shifted her eyes slightly, so that they rested on the male’s face but were no longer witness to the tumult in his eyes. 

The two sat utterly still, as if suspended in time. Then, after a minute, or perhaps an hour, Cassian tilted his head slightly. 

Nesta did not want to consider how she knew exactly what Cassian was thinking, but she addressed his concern by blurting out, “It’s yours, of course. The baby I mean.” 

Cassian swallowed loudly. His gaze trailed her figure, perhaps to see if he could detect any changes. 

He was so uncharacteristically quiet that Nesta just wanted to throw something and beg him to say something, although part of her also preferred his silence to a negative reaction.

Finally, she heard his voice gruffly say, “You’re pregnant with my baby.” 

Nesta gave a single nod.

Cassian let out a loud breath. “And do you- are you keeping it?” he asked. 

Nesta ignored how Cassian’s voice shook with suppressed emotion. She gave a single nod once more.

Cassian shut his eyes for a moment. 

Unsure whether she should let Cassian talk, she hesitated for a few moments before asserting, “I just wanted you to know. You can do whatever you want about… it. You can decide how much you want to be involved. Just… don’t tell them.” She paused for a few moments before adding a word she rarely used. “Please.” 

If Cassian had been surprised before, Nesta’s plea only shocked him further. Still, the additional astonishment seemed to jar him from his shell-shocked state. 

He coughed slightly as if clearing his throat. “I was a bastard. I’m not doing that to my child.”

Nesta’s eyes widened. Speaking slowly, she inquired, “You want to get married?” She didn’t know how she felt about that, but it was certainly not what she had been expecting.

“What?” Cassian’s whole body jerked, surprised. His eyes were wild and darted across the room before looking at her. “No, I-” he paused, considering her question for the first time. “I mean,” he vacillated, “if that’s what you what…” 

Nesta only frowned slightly in response. “I thought you just said you didn’t want your child to be a bastard?” 

“Oh,” he ran a hand over his hair, “I meant that I want to be involved. Fully.” 

“Okay,” Nesta intoned. Her face and voice did not reveal even a hint of emotion. Which was probably for the best because Nesta had no idea how to deal with the huge wave of relief and panic that threatened to submerge her. 

“Are you- have you seen a healer?” 

Nesta, who had thought that her emotions were successfully locked away, risked meeting his eyes once more, only to be overwhelmed by the emotion that shone in his eyes: the warmth and concern and — was that hope? Too much. Way. Too. Much. 

“Not yet.” Somehow her voice came out steady. Still, the concern in his eyes increased ten-fold. Could he see past her facade? Nesta never knew. 

“Do you want Madja to-” 

“I have an appointment,” she interrupted. “It’s next Wednesday.”

Cassian hesitated for a moment, then nodded. He asked softly, “Would you be comfortable with me attending the appointment?”

“You don’t have to.”

“I’d… like to go. But it’s fine if you’d rather I didn’t-”

“You can if you want,” she answered in a nonchalant tone.

Cassian grinned tentatively.

“It’s at 3 in the afternoon,” she informed him. “I can write down the address for you but don’t share it.”

“Where is it?”

“1203 Errapel Lane, Elysium River Valley, Velaris,” she recalled.

Cassian’s forehead wrinkled slightly. “That’s pretty far from here.”

“It’s in Velaris, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, but it’s on the outskirts. How are you planning on getting there?”

“I was planning on walking,” she admitted.

“It would take at least an hour from here,” he said.

Meaning it would take her about an hour and a half from her house. Each way. 

“I could take you,” he offered. 

She tilted her head, “You can winnow?”

“What? No. I meant flying. It would only take a little over 10 minutes from here.”

She paused, considering. On the one hand, she didn’t really want to be in Cassian’s arms for 10 whole minutes. Flying was also terrifying. As a child, she had occasionally wondered what it would be like to fly, but Rhysand’s initiation had proven how wrong her naive fantasies had been. On the other hand, she really had no other way to get there and exhausting herself in her current state was not a good idea. “Alright,” she conceded. 

Cassian shot her his trademark bright smile, but it felt a little less flashy than usual. It was the look in his eyes, however, that led her to allow the corners of her lips to turn upwards very slightly. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Please leave comments and kudos (they motivate me to write faster)!  
> If you guys want to talk or want to give me writing prompts, come talk to me on Tumblr @sayosdreams.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! Can't believe I'm posting this withing a reasonable time frame xD  
> Thanks to my wonderful beta reader Kayleigh.  
> Thank you for all the sweet comments ❤︎ I really appreciated it.  
> I hope you enjoy!

The days fluttered past far too quickly for Nesta’s liking, and before she knew it, Wednesday afternoon had arrived. 

She walked quickly to Lucynthia’s a million anxieties swimming in her head. Only half of them were irrational. She had arrived 5 minutes before the agreed time, though in typical Nesta fashion she of course had an excuse prepared to show that it wasn’t that she cared too much — no, she simply adored Lucynthia’s, and last time she heard it wasn’t a crime to visit a cafe unless Rhysand had imposed a new law — just in case Cassian questioned her early arrival. Yet she had no need to worry about that because Cassian didn’t arrive at 2:35 as they’d decided. 

There was no need to panic. Meetings at Rhysand’s place often took longer than expected, and Cassian would have no worthy excuse to leave without telling everyone Nesta’s secret. So really there was nothing to worry about, Nesta told herself, watching the seconds’ hand of the clock in the cafe loop around once, twice, thrice.

Everyone could be late. Nesta was frequently late to events both before and after she became fae, though it was usually to make a point. Her mother had called it being “fashionably late”, to be just a few minutes late to make a dramatic entrance in order to leave an impact and lasting memory on those you were trying to impress — somehow they were always trying to impress someone or the other back when they were rich. 

2:40 rolled around. It wasn’t as though they’d be late, Nesta reminded herself. They had just wanted enough time to get there a bit early because it was the first appointment. 

Maybe Cassian had been at the Illyrian camps, and it was taking him longer than expected to get back because of the direction of the wind. Nesta had no idea if such things truly mattered when flying, but it affected birds, so it would most likely have some impact on any form of wings.

At 2:46 and 30 seconds, Nesta began to wonder if Cassian had changed his mind. Perhaps he thought that it would be unwise to have a secret love child. Maybe Cassian had already had kids and had decided that raising one with Nesta would require too much effort. Perhaps he had simply been humoring her that day. Cassian probably didn’t want to lie to his High Lord and Lady. What if he had already told them about the baby and didn’t want to confront Nesta about it? What if he thought Nesta had been lying? Or that the baby wasn’t his? Nesta hadn’t really explained to him that she was sober and had a job. He was probably ashamed of having impregnated his High Lady’s drunken, slutty, sorry excuse for a sister. He didn’t want to be associated with the shameful, monstrous black sheep of their court. Maybe he thought he could do this for the baby but realized he couldn’t stick around. Or maybe he had asked her to meet him here so that he could ask Feyre and Rhysand to come and get her and force her to live in one of their houses. Or-

Cassian arrived, sweat glistening on his arms and forehead, just as the clock showed 2:50.

“I’m so sorry!” he exclaimed, huffing slightly. “I came here as fast as I could, but Rhysand changed the meeting agenda and then Feyre and Amren wanted to talk about plans for Solstice. Then Mor started-”

Nesta cut him off with a sharp glance that indicated how little interest she had in his excuse. She was not in the mood to hear about the happenings of the Inner Circle, ~~especially Morrigan~~. 

Still, she was too relieved that he had actually showed up to say anything. She wordlessly stepped into his embrace, allowing him to wrap his arms around her waist and torso, and slipping her own around his shoulders. Flights with Cassian were much smoother than the first one with Rhysand, but she wasn’t eager to take chances at the moment. 

They flew in awkward silence. It wasn’t the silence itself that was awkward. It was the odd familiarity of being wrapped in Cassian’s arms, along with the fact that despite his firm grip, his hold on her waist was strangely tender, that made Nesta itch to be back on solid ground. 

They landed right in front of a small building. Nesta tried to check if there was a sign indicating the address of this building, but found no number in plain sight.

“It’s this one,” Cassian assured her, climbing the steps of the building. “I checked beforehand.”

Nesta didn’t let herself dwell on that fact, and simply followed him in. 

* * *

As soon as she entered the waiting room, a female dressed in white entered the room. 

Her dark hair was pinned up in a bun. She smiled cordially, and asked, “Are you Nesta Archeron?” 

“Yes.” 

“Follow me.”

Nesta followed the female into the next room, and sat on the bed as indicated. Cassian trailed behind her. 

Once Cassian entered, the female shut the door. 

“Hello, I’m Healer Sirona Galen.” The female extended a hand. Nesta took it, somewhat unsure of what exactly she was supposed to do. Was she expected to kiss the female's hand the way men did when courting women? 

The female shook her hand, then Cassian’s. Cassian seemed just as bewildered. 

The healer turned to the illyrian. 

“I don’t know how much Nesta has told you about me. I’m a very qualified healer, and completed education in the Dawn and Day courts to learn about different forms of healing. I’ve been practicing in the Night Court for over 120 years, although I have practiced in other courts before that.”

Cassian nodded, seeming unsure about what he was supposed to do with the information.

“However, I have a very strict policy that I need you to abide by. I believe in absolute healer-confidentiality. I do not want High Lords to intervene in my patients’ care. For this, I ask that you do not talk about me or disclose this location to others. My card can be provided to people who may need it, but please use your best judgment about that as well,” the healer announced.

Cassian blinked. He then agreed quickly, after clearing his throat slightly.

“Any questions?”

He shook his head.

“Okay.” The healer turned towards Nesta. “I’m going to ask you a few questions before examining you. Would you like him to stay?” 

Nesta and Cassian awkwardly made eye contact before flitting their eyes away. 

“Yes, he can stay,” Nesta decided. 

“I do not mean to be rude, but what is your relationship?”

It took Nesta a moment to understand the healer’s question. She remained silent afterwards, unsure how to answer. Was there a label for _willing to die together on the battlefield but then ignored each other afterwards except for when we slept together for one night resulting in a baby_? 

The healer clarified “Is he the biological father of the child, or a family member, friend, your partner, or some other relationship?”

“He’s the father,” Nesta answered. It felt strange calling Cassian a father, though she had no doubt he’d be a great father. What would the child call him, she wondered absently. Father? Papa? Dad? 

The healer jotted something down, before sitting in the chair in front of the bed. The chair next to the bed was occupied by Cassian.

“Ok, Nesta, I’m going to ask you a few questions now. If at any point you feel uncomfortable or don’t want to answer, let me know. Also please stop me if you have any questions,” the healer began. 

Nesta indicated her agreement.

“I know you communicated this slightly in your letter but how long ago do you think the date of conception was?”

“About 15 weeks ago.” Nesta forced herself not to look at Cassian.

“And have you been sexually active after that date?”

“No.” Don’t blush, Nesta told her fae face. Do. not blush.

“Have you been experiencing any nausea?”

“Yes, I have,” Nesta replied, relieved that it wasn’t another embarrassing question. 

She felt Cassian’s worried eyes.

The healer wrote it down. “How frequently?”

“It was about every other day for the last month or so but I haven’t felt very nauseous in the last week,” she answered. 

The healer nodded. “Have you had any pain?”

“Not much, just a bit of soreness in my chest and legs.” 

She hadn’t thought much of it, but perhaps it was a bad sign. Would her baby be alright? Nesta felt herself beginning to panic. Cassian’s worried face, which she really was trying to block out but couldn’t help seeing in the corner of her eye, was not helping her keep her cool. 

As if sensing her emotions, the healer assured, “Don’t worry, those are normal symptoms. Nothing to be concerned about.” 

Some tension left her body. Cassian let out a long breath. 

“How much exercise do you get everyday? How long are you on your feet?”

“I walk at least about 30 minutes each day, and I usually stand for at least about,” Nesta glanced at the ceiling, trying to recall. “Maybe 4 or 5 hours a day.”

The healer gave her a calm glance. “Make sure to get a moderate amount of exercise each day. What you’re doing right now is great. Keep it going. In the later months, we can talk about different ways to keep exercising.” Healer Galen glanced at her notepad. “Just a couple more questions left. Is this your first child?”

Nesta nodded. 

“And how regular is your cycle?”

“It’s very irregular,” Nesta responded. “I didn’t-” Nesta cut herself off before she said something she’d regret. _I didn’t think I could get pregnant in this body_. 

The healer frowned slightly. “How old were you when your cycle began?” 

“Fourteen.” Elain and feyre had both begun theirs two years after hers, when they were fifteen and fourteen respectively. 

“And how old are you currently?”

“26.”

The healer pressed her lips together. Was there an issue? Nesta had been worried about her reproductive organs’ health, but thought that if she could get pregnant she had to be healthy enough. Had she been wrong? Would the baby not survive?

“How irregular?”

“I barely get my cycle.”

“How often?”

Nesta tried to recall when it had been that she’d been curled up in bed alone, without enough energy to go search for medication. “About... twice a year?” she guessed.

Nesta glanced at the healer, thinking she’d see another worried expression on the female’s face. Instead the female seemed confused.

“You get your cycle twice a year? About every six months?” she repeated.

Nesta nodded. 

“I don’t understand what’s irregular? That seems fairly normal.”

“What? No. I don’t get my cycle for months.”

“Yes, exactly.” The healer was giving her a puzzled glance. “That’s very healthy.”

Was this a joke? But Cassian seemed confused as well.

The healer continued, “But you seemed to have started your cycle at a very young age. Is that a common age in your family?”

Nesta nodded again. She was baffled. 14 was a normal age to start your cycle, by all accounts in her village. Many girls got it earlier. But to not get your cycle every month was worrisome, especially when it failed to show up repeatedly.

“I don’t usually like to ask my patients this,” the healer sighed, “But would you mind telling me which region you’re from? It could help me understand more about differences in your cycle, which could indicate some differences for your pregnancy.”

“I’m from…” Nesta wasn’t sure how to phrase it, but ended up with, “the south.”

Which didn’t mean much, since the Night Court was north of basically everywhere.

“Would you be willing to elaborate?” she inquired.

Nesta glanced at Cassian for help. There was no way that this healer would know where she was from by name.

“Do you have a map?” Cassian asked the healer. 

“Of Prythian?”

“Yes.”

The healer brought out a map. Nesta wondered why the healer would need a map, but decided not to ask because the item was actually proving helpful. Instead she pointed at her home village.

The healer cocked her head. “You lived in the Mortal Lands?”

“Yes.” 

The healer jotted something down, muttering, “Perhaps something in the food…”

The healer looked at her once more. “May I ask why you or your family chose to live in the Mortal Lands?”

“Because we were humans,” Nesta blurted before glancing at Cassian.

His eyes were worried, but not about the information she had just revealed. His face mirrored all of Nesta’s anxieties regarding her baby’s health. 

“You were human?” Nesta nodded. “And now you are fae?” Another nod. 

The healer seemed bewildered for one moment. Then her composure returned. 

“That explains it then,” Healer Galen smiled, motioning at Nesta to lay down. 

“Explains what?” Cassian asked. His voice was so unlike his usual carefree, jovial tone that Nesta did a double take.

“Humans’ cycles begin at a younger age than fae. And I believe that human females have their cycle each month, unlike fae, who have it every six months.”

Nesta jolted. It was normal for fae to have such a cycle? No wonder they had been giving her strange glances. She felt like an idiot. 

“I’m going to start the examination now,” Healer Galen announced. “First, I’ll do a bit of magic to be able to detect your baby. I’m going to put my hands on your stomach and you’ll feel a cold feeling, okay?”

Nesta took a deep breath, trying to relax. She managed to flinch only slightly at the sudden coolness on her stomach. The healer’s eyes were shut for a minute. Cassian and Nesta looked at one another, unsure what they were supposed to be doing.

Healer Galen opened her eyes. “The child seems very healthy,” she declared. She then explained, “For fae, we count the weeks of pregnancy starting at the lowest point in your estrogen cycle after conception. So that means that you’re considered to be a bit over 13 weeks pregnant at this point.”

Nesta and Cassian remained silent, so the healer went on. “You’re out of the first trimester. Fae pregnancies are rare and fairly risky, but after the first trimester the risk of miscarriage significantly decreases. You should come in for an appointment every four weeks so that I can make sure everything’s coming along smoothly. You’ll be able to tell the gender at around 20 weeks. For now, you can listen to the heartbeat if you’d like.” 

The healer looked at them, awaiting a response. Both were stunned by all the information they’d just received, and it took them a moment to process it all.

“Yes, we’d like to hear it,” Nesta responded, pushing down her emotions. 

“Okay, please give me your hand.”

The healer placed one hand from both Nesta and Cassian over Nesta’s stomach, about a thumb’s height away from touching her skin. The healer then muttered some sort of incantation. 

A pulsing noise filled the air. They listened quickly until the noise faded away.

It was her child. To hear the heartbeat only reinforced the reality of the situation. She would have to care for an actual, tiny being. It was a real person. 

“The heartbeat seemed very fast.” Cassian’s voice brought Nesta back out of her head. 

The healer answered, “Fetal heartbeats are supposed to be much faster than the average adult. Your child’s heartbeat is healthy and normal.”

* * *

The flight back began as silently as the journey there. Both fae were contemplating the situation and were engulfed in a myriad of emotions. 

“Thank you.” Cassian’s slightly hoarse voice broke the silence. 

Sensing that Nesta did not understand what he was talking about, he added, “For letting me come.” 

“It’s fine. You don’t have to thank me,” she replied crisply without looking at him.

Silence reigned once more for a few minutes. 

“If you need anything,” Cassian began again, “just let me know, okay?”

“Okay,” Nesta answered, though it was obviously just for show. Nesta had no means of contacting Cassian besides mailing a letter and based on her one experience, it wasn’t a method she was particularly eager to try. 

Cassian seemed to sense her thoughts — she did not let wonder how. 

“I’ll give you some communication parchment when we land,” he decided. 

“Okay,” she repeated montonely. She was thankful, even if she would never show it. She couldn’t think of why she’d need to communicate with him, but he’d probably want to know if she were in labor.

“Okay,” he breathed. “Has your nausea been bad?”

Nesta had no idea why he’d want to bring up the topic of nausea while flying. “It’s fine. There was about a week or so when I spent my mornings and evenings dry heaving into a toilet, but recently it’s gotten much better. I’ve barely felt it in the last week, like I said.”

“Right, yeah.” Cassian seemed nervous. It was an uncommon emotion for him, and Nesta had no idea why he was feeling it at the moment. “Do you want me to drop you off at Lucynthia’s or… ?” he trailed off.

Nesta debated silently for a moment. She was pretty tired (and emotionally drained) so she’d appreciate it if he could take her to her house. She had avoided telling anyone in the Inner Circle where she now lived, but if Cassian was willing to keep the baby a secret, he probably wouldn’t tattle about where she lived. 

“You can fly to my house,” she proposed, giving him directions.

They landed smoothly in front of her house. 

Nesta wanted to go inside and curl up in bed with a novel and a cup of tea. So she had absolutely no idea why the words “Do you want to come inside?” left her lips. 

Cassian seemed surprised. “Are you sure?”

No, she wasn’t sure, but she also hated going back on decisions. She just unlocked the door and entered, holding it open to him.

Her house was fairly clean, though a few items of clothing were hanging from chairs and some dirty dishes were in the sink. 

“Do you want some tea?” 

“Sure, sweetheart.” His swagger was slowly returning. She didn’t know if that was good or bad. She disliked his facade, but it was easier to deal with Cocky Cassian than real Cassian ~~who made her feel strange~~. 

She busied herself in the kitchen preparing tea, then handed him a mug and sat down across the table from him with a mug of her own. She had no idea what to talk about. 

Cassian’s eyes explored her house before resting on a pile of books. “Have you been reading a lot?”

“I always read.” 

“I mean about the, um, pregnancy.” 

“I’ve done some research.” Sensing that Cassian was desperately trying to start a conversation, she gave in. “I read about what foods to eat and what kinds of things to expect.”

They continued the pregnancy-centric discussion until Cassian asked about her other reading material, novels.

“I doubt they’d be of interest to you,” she quipped.

“Why’s that sweetheart?”

“Because I doubt you can read.”

He only grinned. “I can read well enough to know that most of your ‘romance novels’ are just smut.”

“Was your bed so lonely that you needed smut to keep you company?”

“I think you know that my wingspan is enough to entice any female and even a few males.” 

No, his deep flirtatious voice did not affect her at all, Nesta reminded herself. 

_Although really_ , a small voice whispered in her head, _You’re already pregnant with his baby. Sleeping with him can’t result in any more consequences._

“Shut up, I’m not doing that,” she muttered to herself under her breath.

“If you must know, I’ve been reading this novel about a male trapped in dreams,” she began. She thought Cassian would not care for the story, but his face showed interest, so she recounted the whole tale. 

“And then?” Cassian asked when she stopped speaking.  
“I haven’t read the rest yet.”

“Oh.” A thought seemed to bloom in Cassian’s mind, and his eyes twinkled. “Well, let me know what happens.”

They spoke for a few more minutes, until Cassian glanced at the window, realizing it was already getting dark. 

“I’ve got to get going.” His tone was regretful. 

To her surprise, Nesta was not pleased to see him leave. She had ~~enjoyed~~ not hated conversing with him. 

He continued, “I guess I’ll see you next month, then?” 

She nodded. 

“Should I pick you up from here, or Lucyinthia’s or somewhere else?”

“Here is fine.” Her eyes were humorous as she added, “Don’t be late.”

He seemed startled, and blurted, “No I won’t be” before realizing that she was kidding, which startled him once more. 

Did people think she was incapable of joking?

He smiled. Before flying off, he professed, “Thank you… for tea.” His serious, sincere tone made it clear that he was not thanking her for tea, but for _everything_.

Her eyes trailed his figure across the sky.

* * *

Although not visible through her clothes, Nesta’s stomach was no longer flat, she realized as she dressed for work (and dinner at Brielle’s) on saturday. 

The female — Khoniya, Nesta reminded herself — was going to be at Brielle’s house, and she knew about Nesta’s pregnancy. Through the limited interaction they’d had, she didn’t think the female was the type to talk about other people’s business, but Nesta didn’t want Brielle to find out from someone else about her pregnancy. It wasn’t that Brielle would put up a fuss or even say anything if she realized that Nesta hadn’t told her, but Nesta valued her and their friendship (though the word itself still startled her) too much for her to find out indirectly. It was strange how someone who she’d met only for about a month ago could mean so much to her. 

So after work, as they walked to Brielle’s house, Nesta declared softly, “I have to tell you something.”

“Alright,” Brielle replied, her tone light and curious. 

It didn’t have to be a big deal, Nesta told herself. There was no reason to be this nervous. “I’m pregnant,” she announced. 

Brielle smiled. Well, her lips were always upturned and her cheeks were always flexed—but when she heard Nesta’s comment, she grinned. 

“That’s fabulous,” Brielle began before pausing to look at Nesta, as if confirming that her statement was correct. She seemed to note both Nesta’s nervousness and joy. “I mean… are you keeping it? Are you happy about it?” she inquired, as if feeling regretful for her premature outburst of joy. 

When Nesta nodded, Brielle seemed relieved—not that Nesta was keeping the child, but that she hadn’t accidentally offended her friend. 

“Let me know if I can help in any way,” she babbled excitedly. Her words echoed Cassian’s, ruining Nesta’s attempt to not think about the father of her child. 

“Oh, this explains why you were feeling tired and nauseous the other day. I was actually a bit worried that day, but I’m glad you’re doing alright. Better than alright, really. Oh, how far along are you? Or would you rather not tell me?” Brielle rambled, her eyes wide. Nesta suppressed the urge to giggle. Brielle looked like a young over-excited child despite being far older than Nesta. 

“I’m about 13 or 14 weeks at this point,” she informed her.

“Wow! Can you feel the baby yet? Oh, and also please let me know if you ever need to leave early for appointments or when you need to rest before the baby comes. You can take as much time off as you want. Do you know the gender?” Brielle continued, before tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “Sorry, am I asking too many questions? I don’t mean to overwhelm you.”

“It’s fine,” Nesta replied. Brielle’s questions amused her more than they annoyed her. “I’ll let you know if I need to take time off in the last month or so, but for now the appointments are when we don’t have work. And no, I haven’t felt the baby and we can’t find out the gender yet.” Nesta hadn’t realised she’d switch pronouns until Brielle enquired, “We?”

Before Nesta had time to formulate an answer, Brielle blurted, “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to overstep. You don’t have to tell me. Please don’t feel obliged, just because I asked, to-”

“The father of the baby is, um, going to be involved, but we’re not… together,” Nesta explained clumsily, as they climbed the steps to Brielle’s house.

It was larger than any house Nesta had ever lived in — except for when she’d lived at Feyre’s, of course — but as she entered, Nesta realized that it was still fairly modest. 

There was a living room to the left of the entryway, and the kitchen and dining room were to the right, along with a small restroom. On the second floor, there were two bedrooms and a larger bathroom, Brielle told her as they took off their shoes and went to the kitchen.

Brielle laid the table with foods she’d prepared beforehand and had kept in some sort of magical coolant box. Nesta had been surprised to see it, and Brielle had been surprised at Nesta’s surprise. “It’s quite a simple contraption. They’re very common in the Day Court,” Brielle said. 

Brielle heated a few of the different foods and also cooked something new — to be quite honest, Nesta was not a very experienced cook and therefore had no idea what Brielle was doing. Perhaps, Nesta thought to herself idly, she should look into learning a bit more about cooking before the baby arrived, although really it wasn’t as if the child would eat anything she cooked for about a year. 

Nesta offered to help Brielle, but the latter waved her off. Upon her insistence, Brielle agreed to let Nesta set the table. After the task was done, Nesta studied the house as Brielle finished up her cooking. 

The house was decorated simply. The dining room had a chestnut colored table with four matching chairs. A small wreath of white flowers hung on the wall. Large windows allowed for sunlight streamed through, brightening the rooms. 

The living room had two sofas and a small, round table in the middle. On the table was a dark gray ornamental vase with thin gold marble-like lines. The vase contained a single stem of yellow orchids. 

Brielle followed Nesta’s gaze. 

“That vase has been in my family for a couple generations,” Brielle noted.

What did that mean, in this world where children were rare and parents were immortal? How many years — or centuries — had this vase belonged to Brielle’s family?

Brielle continued dreamily, “Every time the vase breaks, the pieces are put together again and the cracks are filled with gold. It’s supposed to be a symbol that being broken doesn’t diminish your value, but instead, surviving that makes you more beautiful and resilient than before.” 

Brielle tore her eyes away from the artifact and returned to her task, leaving Nesta to continue her silent observation.

The vase was beautiful — and valuable in a way that no jewelry or artifact in Feyre’s grand palace could compare. In the sunlight, the golden cracks in the vase sparkled. It contrasted deeply with the dark hue of the vase, and yet somehow the two complimented each other, as though breaking and healing had been the vase’s fate from the start to result in such a unique object. Perhaps, someday, the vase would break once more, and would transform into something new — no longer the object Nesta peered at, despite having the same parts. 

Nesta had no idea how long she stood, mesmerized by the vase. When the doorbell rang, the food had been laid out on the table and Brielle was putting away the newly cleaned pans she’d used to cook. 

“Hello! Thanks so much for inviting me,” Khoniya said as she entered. She removed her shoes and black coat, revealing her white and navy dress, and unwrapped the thin gray scarf around her head. Her long bright hair tumbled across her back in natural waves, standing out against the brown skin. Her hair was the color of persimmon, yet as she closed the door and stepped into a shadow, it darkened to resemble red maple leaves. 

“Hello,” she greeted Nesta. “I’m Khoniya.” 

“Nesta,” she replied quietly.

Brielle ushered them into the dining room and they sat down to eat.

“How have you been?” Brielle asked Khoniya.

Perhaps Nesta shouldn’t have come. She would not enjoy another dinner as an outsider to already established friendships. She had been getting along so well with Brielle. She shouldn’t have jinxed it. 

“I’ve been doing… okay. It’s nice to get a break from Yaran though,” Khoniya answered. She turned to look at Nesta. “Yaran is my son. I love him so much, but three year olds are tiring.” 

Why was Khoniya speaking to her about this? Did she want to discuss pregnancy and children with Nesta? 

“How long have you been working at the shop?” Khoniya asked her. 

“About a month now.” 

“Why did you choose to work there, if you don’t mind me asking?”

Nesta recounted the story of how she’d found the shop and decided to become an employee. 

Khoniya seemed delighted. “Brielle, thank goodness you found someone to help you! You’re so smart but I knew there was no way the shop had just fixed itself,” she smirked softly.

“Hey! It wasn’t that bad!” Brielle interjected playfully.

“It really was,” Khoniya responded, giving Nesta a mock-serious look that begged for reinforcement. 

So Nesta gave Brielle a mock-serious nod. 

“You guys are so mean to me. Next time I won’t make you food,” Brielle pouted.

Nesta and Khoniya quickly retracted their statements. 

“No, no, Brielle, we’re sorry. Please we’ll do anything for your food,” Khoniya begged jokingly.

The food was delicious. It was home-cooked, unlike any other meal she’d had since arriving in the fae world (except a few meals she’d made herself but those really did not count as meals), and yet was so much tastier than many of the finest dishes at restaurants or even Feyre’s palaces. Granted, Feyre’s foods were always sprinkled with awkwardness and blame that ruined the flavor, while Brielle’s special touch of kindness added to the enjoyment. 

So, Nesta giddily added, “Please Brielle” and fluttered her eyelashes playfully.

“Fiiiiine.” Brielle rolled her eyes. “But only because you asked so nicely and you really did save my shop,” she muttered to Nesta. 

Khoniya laughed, breaking the facade of the mock-argument. Her laughter was infectious, and soon Brielle was giggling and then Nesta was laughing as well. 

She hadn’t consumed a single sip of alcohol, yet she felt like she was floating. 

And while Nesta couldn’t think of a single reason why Khoniya would want to get to know Nesta, as the red-haired female spoke to her once more, Nesta couldn’t find it in her to care. 

She felt lighter than she had in years, and not even her own anxieties could weigh her down.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!  
> Please please please leave comments & kudos to help motivate me ❤︎
> 
> Check out my Tumblr @sayosdreams if you have a prompt or idea for a short fic you want me to write, or if you just want to talk!


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys!  
> Thanks for all your sweet comments!  
> As usual, thanks to my amazing beta reader, Kayleigh!  
> The chapters keep getting longer and longer (oops).  
> As I've said before, I'm going to keep trying to post new chapters at least once every 2 weeks.  
> Please drop by my Tumblr (sayosdreams) if you want to talk or if you have a prompt / fic idea (not for this fic, but just in general)!  
> Ok, without further ado, here's the chapter!

“And she wouldn’t stop crying! Children can be terrible,” Brielle groaned, recounting the story of a certain customer who’s daughter threw a tantrum — a very loud tantrum in the middle of the boutique — when her mother refused to buy her another bracelet. The daughter had been far too old (instead of being 5, as Brielle and Nesta had originally thought, the child seemed to be about 11) and the embarrassed mother had ended up purchasing the bracelet to quiet the child. 

Brielle seemed to realize who she was talking to, and added, “No offense.”

“None taken,” Khoniya replied mildly. At Brielle’s glance, Nesta nodded as well. 

It was another Saturday night, and the three females were gathered at Brielle’s house for their third dinner together. This dinner, where Nesta had met Khoniya only two weeks prior, had unspokenly become a weekly tradition that each of them looked forward to. 

However, at the moment, Nesta was far too preoccupied recalling the child’s behavior to enjoy the food or the company. Well that was a lie. The food was impossible not to savour. Perhaps in another life or even later on in this life, since they were all immortal, Brielle would become a cook. Still, Nesta couldn’t enjoy the food as much as usual. She had just realized that despite all the books she’d read about dealing with pregnancy and a few she’d begun about what infants needed in their first few months, she had absolutely no idea how to raise a child. Children weren’t like robots; they almost never listened to their parents and loved to be irrational. There was nothing to ensure that her child wouldn’t be exactly like the one in the shop.

“It’s what happens when you spoil your kids,” Khoniya noted, but then muttered, “It’s tough being a mom though. We shouldn’t judge her.”

“I wasn’t trying to judge!” Brielle replied defensively.

Khoniya made a noncommittal noise and took another bite of food. 

Brielle, who had finished eating, went to the kitchen to make some tea and get dessert. 

Khoniya’s gaze fell on Nesta. She was silent, but her expression showed that she knew that Nesta was troubled by something and she wanted to hear her thoughts. 

“I have no idea how to raise a child,” Nesta admitted. “How are you supposed to take a baby and turn it into a moral, functioning hu- fae?”

“I don’t think anyone really knows the answer,” Brielle smiled gently. “Everyone’s scared of messing up but we all do our best.”

“But I don’t have a clue!” Nesta’s tone somewhat betrayed her frantic emotions. 

“I can only tell you what I know, based on my childhood and, I suppose, my son. But Yaran is still two years old and he’s my firstborn. I don’t know how he’ll turn out or who he’ll become or if anything I’m doing is even remotely correct. I just try to do the best I can each and every day,” Khoniya explained calmly. “One tip I can give you is to take care of yourself. Just do one thing for yourself every day: play an instrument, go for a walk, eat something delicious, draw, whatever you like to do to relax. No matter how patient you are, kids will make you run out of patience. The only way to be the kind of parent you want to be is to take care of yourself so that you have enough rationality to look past your anger and disappointment and frustration, and remember that your child is still a child.”

For some reason, Nesta had the urge to take notes.

“As for becoming moral, functioning beings… That’s a whole other complex issue, isn’t it? You want your kids to be happy and generous but not spoiled. They should be humble but have self-confidence, kind but not weak or passive, strong but not intimidating or bullying. I try to teach my son but, well, I also have to remind myself that no one’s perfect and that it’s okay for him to mess up.” Khoniya’s eyes shifted and she left out a small sigh. “You have a job, so it may be different. For me, I love staying at home and taking care of my family. But also Yaran is my whole world and when he messes up, I feel like it reflects badly on me, especially sin-” She cleared her throat. “But anyway, for now, I like who my son is becoming and I know that even though I do mess up from time to time, I’m doing my best at parenting.”

“But how do you know what to do? How do you teach them to be good?”

Khoniya shrugged. “My family used to tell us fables and tales. At the time, we all thought they were just stories but looking back, there were many lessons in those stories that we all took to heart. I tell Yaran some of those stories.”

Nesta nodded. 

Khoniya asked, “Did your family tell stories as well?”

“I think my mother told us stories when we were very young,” Nesta responded slowly as she tried to recall. “She would sit with us and tell us one tale each night before we went to sleep.” She could only recall a few bits and pieces of the stories.

“I have learned a lot from stories, though,” Nesta added, not wanting the conversation to fall stagnant (although silent lulls were rarely awkward with Khoniya). “I used to devour books as a child. I still do enjoy it quite a bit, although the material I read now is less… educational.” 

To be completely honest, Nesta had learned quite a bit from the romance novels and smut she’d read, although it was more about human sexuality ~~and sexual acts~~ rather than morality. 

“I see,” Khoniya said politely. Her tone seemed a bit off. Perhaps because Nesta hadn’t really given her anywhere to take the conversation. 

While Nesta didn’t pride herself on conversational skills, books, at least, were something she could discuss for ages without getting tired.

“What sort of books do you like?” 

Khoniya froze. She looked like a small animal, paralysed as to not alert the predators of her presence. As if she stayed still enough, the attention would shift elsewhere.

But Brielle was still preparing dessert, and Khoniya and Nesta were alone.

The latter waited quietly, trying to grasp what had triggered such a reaction from the red-haired female. 

Khoniya’s eyes ran across Nesta’s body, studying her. She seemed to have found whatever answer she was looking for. Her eyes were focused on the wall right next to Nesta’s head as she spoke. “I don’t read many books.” Her quiet voice was strained, as though forcing those 5 words from her throat in an audible tone was a great effort.

Perhaps Khoniya was poor, Nesta realized with a start. She had never visited Khoniya’s home, and had no idea… Perhaps she was like Nesta, who had devoured the same books over and over after her family had lost their wealth, even on a rare occasion resorting to secret borrowing — although the more accurate term for what she had done, her borrowing of books without the owners’ knowledge and failure to return said item, was _stealing_. 

Nesta felt that perhaps she should apologize, if only for making this female — who had never failed to make Nesta feel welcomed — uncomfortable. Khoniya’s expression, however, made Nesta decide to remain silent rather than interrupt whatever the female was making an effort to voice. 

“It is difficult for me,” Khoniya uttered carefully. “I can write my name and sign documents. I can read street signs and addresses. And of course I can read prices. But it is difficult for me to read. I was not taught to do so in my youth, and even though I have learned bits and pieces, sometimes deliberately, sometimes just due to circumstance, I am not,” she paused, choosing her words with great consideration, “adept at the art of letters. So I do not read books unless I am obliged to. It takes far too long and I do not find pleasure in the activity, only frustration.”

Nesta had not considered that Khoniya — who was not bubbly like Brielle or tumultuous like Nesta, but was warm like a cup of soothing herbal tea that was surprisingly sweet — could be illiterate. And she cursed her own naiveté. Nesta wanted to believe that she’d grown up and changed for the better, that she was no longer so blind and yet here she was again. Nesta, who hadn’t realized her own sister’s illiteracy, who hadn’t bothered to make sure her sister could write her own names as she escaped between the pages of books, had not even entertained the possibility that the female before her was any less than perfectly literate. How foolish to think that her eyes had been opened, to think that she’d grown, _improved_. How ego-centric.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t realize,” Nesta replied in a low tone, her mouth dry. 

“Oh, no, it’s not your fault. There’s no way you could’ve known,” Khoniya reassured.

How was it possible that Khoniya was reassuring Nesta, when Nesta’s ignorant assumptions had caused Khoniya to have to admit a secret she clearly didn’t want to talk about? Nesta wondered if the female before her would ever stop being such a marvelous conundrum. 

In fact, Khoniya looked more at ease as she reassured Nesta, like she was glad to be able to put the blame on herself. 

“I don’t tell very many people. I can get by well enough that most people don’t notice, and even if they do, I can get by on a slight excuse.”

Why would Khoniya be willing to trust Nesta, of all people, with such an intimate piece of herself was something Nesta could not understand. Nesta was a storm of insecurities, anger, and facades. Since Nesta did not employ the latter in front of Brielle and Khoniya, they glimpsed the doubts and fears that plagued her. Why would you trust a hurricane with a dandelion puff?

“It’s a little embarrassing.” Khoniya’s frame relaxed, fully deciding to reveal this part of herself to Nesta. “I’m way over 200 years old, you know, getting closer to 300 than I’d like to admit. But I spent a large part of that time with my family, and then I was young and falling in love and travelling and having an adventure.” Her amber eyes sparkled. Then darkened as she continued. “Then Amarantha happened, and then the war… and then I was pregnant. I learned along the way, here and there, but there was never really a perfect time or a need.” 

Khoniya’s vertical pupils met Nesta’s rounded ones. 

“Do you want to?” The question emerged from Nesta’s throat without her permission. She had no right to ask such things, to demand an answer when she didn’t even know what question she was posing. Do you want to learn? To practice? To read books?

Khoniya pressed her lips together, contemplating, and then replied, “I think I would like to know how to write and read letters to my son with ease. Someday.”

Her tone was wistful. It seemed to be touched by sadness, like an agreeable autumn breeze that rustled pleasantly through the multicolored leaves, that served as a reminder of the harsh winter storms to come.

“If you’d like to, I have books at my house.” The words were tumbling out once more. Where was the filter she’d constructed over the last quarter of a century? 

“I wouldn’t want to impose.”

“Okay.” _Nesta_ didn’t want to impose. Khoniya was the type of female who would never refuse outright. Nesta’s ridiculous proposal could have offended her — after all, Nesta was no teacher. This was why she needed to control herself more in front of these females.

“I have to take care of Yaran.” Khoniya’s tone was not one of an excuse; in fact, she seemed rather regretful. 

“He can come too, if you’d like. Or if you’d prefer not to, I understand.” Nesta’s voice was more controlled now. 

Khoniya seemed lost. “I’m… That is extremely generous of you, to allow us into your home and to aid me. I’m honored. But what would I offer you in return?”

“I don’t need anything.” Nesta’s brow crinkled at the unexpected question. 

“I consider you to be my friend,” Khoniya said after a minute. “I don’t know if you feel the same, but that is what you are in my mind.”

Nesta nodded. She willed her face not to betray her joy at Khoniya’s words, but her lips twitched.

“I cannot take from my friends without giving back. To take your aid in this way without any repayment would, for me, be a desecration of our relation.” 

Nesta had a somewhat different view on the matter, but Khoniya’s tone conveyed that her principles could not be changed. There was no convincing her on this issue.

Perhaps Nesta and Khoniya were more alike than she’d originally believed.

“Your company is repayment enough,” Nesta declared. When the redhead did not seem persuaded, Nesta continued, “I live alone. I have not had visitors in a very long time. Besides, I learn so much from you.” 

Nesta gained knowledge from Khoniya. But her interaction with Khoniya and Brielle also helped her get closer to becoming a better version of herself — one that she could confront without disgust and hatred’s claws digging into her.

“I suppose I can teach you what little I know about pregnancy and children, if it helps,” Khoniya considered. “But would you not be able to find that same information, and much more in a book?”

“It’s not the same.” Nesta hoped that the other female would sense the sincerity in her tone. It was true: a few minutes of Khoniya speaking had eased her worries far more than weeks of reading pregnancy books (which, while informative, sometimes only served to increase her anxiety on the matter). 

“All right,” Khoniya agreed after another moment. “When would you be willing to host me?”

Nesta recited her work hours and added in the appointment date. 

“One of the evenings, then.” Khoniya tilted her head and her eyes unfocused. Her face seemed to be concentrated. Nesta had no idea why the female had suddenly gone quiet.

“Are you okay?” Nesta inquired. Khoniya didn’t answer. In fact it seemed that she didn’t hear her.

Suddenly, she slipped out of her trance, and said, “Would Tuesday be okay? That way, Elian could take care of Yaran sometimes if needed.”

Nesta blinked in surprise before nodding. How had they communicated so fast? A thought struck her. “Are you and Elian…mates?”

“Oh, yes. Sorry, I forgot I hadn’t told you.” 

Brielle chose that moment to finally emerge from the kitchen. The reason for her prolonged absence was revealed as an intricate tart and a platter of a large selection of fruits. 

One advantage of being fae, Nesta thought to herself as the discussion moved on the topic of the best bakery in Velaris, was that you could eat fae fruit. And all other fae food. Life wouldn’t be complete without having tasted Brielle’s cooking.

* * *

On the Tuesday before Nesta’s healer’s appointment, Nesta and Khoniya sat in Nesta’s small home. It was their second meeting. Khoniya had already finished copying down the sentences (she’d dictated the sentences, Nesta had written them down, and then she’d copied them twice on a separate sheet of paper) and had also finished reading aloud the second chapter of the book Nesta had recommended.

Nesta had asked Brielle about communication parchment, and the female had explained where to buy some. Nesta had therefore given Khoniya one piece and told her that she could write to Nesta whenever she wished to practice. The female had been extremely touched. 

Nesta had also shared a few worrisome questions she’d had about pregnancy and parenthood, which Khoniya calmly answered. The evening was dying down as Nesta asked, “Do you have a random tip that you think is important?”

Khoniya did not question the strange question. Pondering for a moment, she answered, “Start preparing ahead of time. Don’t wait till the last few months to panic and baby proof your house. You don’t need to do it all at once, of course, but start thinking about what you’ll need not just in the first few months, but also when they start crawling and eventually walking. You don’t need to do it all, but have a plan. Because after the baby comes, you’ll be exhausted. Even though you’ll inevitably have to change or at least add to the plan, having _something_ helps with peace of mind, at least for me.” 

“Is it really that tiring?” Nesta’s brow crinkled. “I know that infants need to be fed every few hours, including at night, and that they cry a lot but they also sleep alot, don’t they?”

Khoniya laughed slightly. “Oh, you’ll find out soon enough. They sleep but only at the most inopportune moments. Or you think they’re finally asleep, and try to put them down into the crib, only for them to wake up. Elian and I alternated putting him to bed and we tried to split up the tasks. I mean, obviously I had to feed him.” She grinned, and nesta smirked back. “But Elian dealt with his, ah, waste and also usually bathed him. We were both exhausted for those first few months.” 

“Did you always know Elian was your mate?” Nesta couldn’t stop the question. She knew it wasn’t on topic, but matehood was a fae subject she knew every little about, and there was no one else she could speak to beside Brielle who, as far as Nesta knew, wasn’t mated.

Khoniya did not seem phased by the shift in subject. 

“It’s funny you ask. Elian and I met about, oh, almost 200 years ago, when his family came to the Autumn Court. His father had come on some business and brought his family along. He and his siblings were allowed to go ‘exploring’ while their father was engaged in meeting. Their mother, I think, was taking care of the youngest sibling who was still around 7 years of age at the time. Anyway, Elian and his siblings decided to have a competition to find the ‘coolest secret spot’,” Khoniya rolled her eyes, a fond yet exasperated expression on her face. “They were not even that young. The oldest was around, hmm, 70, I think. Elian himself was over 40 – 46 to be exact.” 

“How old were you?”

“I was 39. Anyway, the five siblings decided to split up and meet back later to compare these ‘cool secret locations’.” Cue another eye roll. “And of course, Elian, who has a horrible sense of direction, got lost. He was just wandering around and he reached the field where I was working. He was lost, so he kept pacing back and forth. I thought he was a little creepy at first for lingering in my field, but I just decided to ignore him, because, well, what was I going to do?” Khoniya shrugged a shoulder, answering her own question. “So I kept working, and then he called out to me, but I continued to ignore him. So apparently he decided it was a good idea to winnow right next to me and put a hand on my shoulder to get my attention.”

“I take it you were startled?”

“I thought he was going to attack me or something. I turned around, claws out and everything, for him to ask, “Do you know any cool secret locations? Also, where are we?” Most underwhelming experience of my life,” Khoniya joked.

“Claws?” Nesta asked, confused.

Khoniya’s eyes widened for a second, her vertical pupils darting across the room. “I have retractable claws,” she said, lifting one of her hands. It seemed like a normal hand alabaster until suddenly, sharp, dark claws appeared over her nails. A moment later, her hand returned to its original state. 

“It’s, um, one of my, um, features. As a Lesser Fae.” Khoniya seemed very uncomfortable with the topic, so Nesta just asked, “What happened afterwards?” Khoniya visibly brightened, her slumped shoulders straightening. 

“I told him where we were, asked him where he had to get back to, and gave him directions, but he kept demanding that I tell him a secret spot. I pointed out that it wouldn’t be a secret if I told him, but he was like “You can trust me! I won’t tell anyone! Well except my siblings…” At which point I told him to leave because I was in the middle of working. He agreed to leave but said he would find out about the secret spot.” Khoniya had a small smile on her face as she recounted the memory. “He came back the next day, and the next. So finally I took him to a semi-secret spot that my sister and I used to hang out in when we were tired and needed to rest in the shade.”

“What kind of spot was it?”

“It was like a large, hollow tree in a small clearing. It could fit the two of us somewhat comfortably.”

“And then?” Nesta prompted, engrossed in the tale.

“Well, he met me there everyday after I finished working, but then he had to go back to Velaris. He came back with his father a couple years later, and we met up again. That was when we really became friends. He had to leave again, of course. But he found excuses to come to the Autumn Court and visited me alot.” Khoniya was blushing slightly. “He started courting me. But then our families found out.” Her face fell. 

“They didn’t approve?” Nesta asked, trying not to overstep, but still curious.

She paused, debating whether to reveal another piece of information to Nesta, then continued, “His family didn’t like that he was with a Lesser Fae, especially one from another court – at the time, Autumn Court wasn’t yet particularly hated. But they didn’t mind that much as long as it was just a fling. They assumed Elian would either grow bored of me, or was with me in the first place just for, ah, sexual satisfaction. So they disapproved, but didn’t really try to make us end our relationship. My family on the other hand…” She sighed. “Someone in my family fell in love with a High Fae and it ended in their death.” 

Nesta met Khoniya’s eyes. “I’m sorry.”

Khoniya nodded. “Yeah, so they believed that any relationship between a Lesser Fae and High fae would only end in tragedy for the Lesser Fae. I tried to convince them that Elian truly cared for me, that he would never do anything to me or allow any harm to come to me, but they always said that it didn’t matter. That I’d still end up getting destroyed.” 

Khoniya’s eyes dropped to the floor. “In the end, I ran away. I had a conversation the day before with my cousin, hinting at what I would do. They know I came to Velaris; there was nowhere else I would go.” She rolled her lips. “I tried to convince them for so many years, you know. But they ignored it. They even tried to set up an engagement with another Lesser Fae male.” She sighed. “I hated losing my family. If I thought that anything could have changed their minds, I would have stayed. But I couldn’t allow myself to be bound to some male. And after trying to explain for decades why they should let me be happy, I no longer had any hope. So I decided that Elian would be my new family.” 

It was dark outside, and although Nesta’s house was illuminated, it was still far dimmer than it had been when natural light had streamed through the window. Khoniya’s eyes glowed softly against the darkness. 

“That worked out,” Nesta noted.

Khoniya nodded. “Yes. But we still faced many struggles. As I mentioned, his family was okay with it being a casual liaison, but did not like it being serious, which became a problem since we lived together. Anyway, back to your original question – sorry the answer got so long-winded by the way – after about two decades together here in Velaris, on the anniversary of our first meeting, we were… laying in bed,” Khoniya’s pink cheeks told Nesta everything she needed to know about what had occurred prior to laying in bed, “and then the bond just snapped into place. I know most females would be delighted to find out that the love of their life is their mate but I was not. Well, in a certain sense I was, but I was overwhelmed by doubts surrounding our relationship. I was afraid that our ‘accidental meeting’ was in truth, him seeking me out because I was his mate.” 

Nesta refrained from saying that she could understand the sentiment. 

“But when I calmed down, he explained that the bond had only snapped in place for him two months prior, when I had stayed up late waiting for him to get home. Before that, he had suspected it, but had thought that it would have snapped into place earlier if it were there – which was what I had also thought.”

Khoniya and Nesta chatted for a few more minutes before Khoniya set out to go home. She thanked Nesta profusely (unnecessarily, in Nesta’s opinion) then put her hair in a bun, wrapped a scarf around her head, and put on a pair of sunglasses. At Nesta’s questioning glance, she explained, “My eyes glow too noticeably at night if I don’t wear these.” 

“Is it bad? For your glowing eyes to be noticed?”

“It’s better to be safe than sorry, especially when you have a child,” Khoniya replied simply. 

She pulled Nesta in for a hug and then disappeared into the night.

* * *

The next day, as Nesta wrapped her arms around Cassian, her body was not taut the way it had been one month prior. Instead, her muscles loosened and her body relaxed as she breathed in his ~~familiar~~ scent — inadvertently of course. 

Neither of them mentioned it, but they both noticed that their bodies did not fit together exactly the same as last month. It was due to Nesta’s growing tummy, which could still be somewhat hidden with the right kind of clothing, but was impossible to ignore in this position. 

“Has your nausea continued?” Cassian enquired.

“No, I’ve been feeling much better, actually.”

“That’s good.”

Nesta refused to let the uncomfortable feeling that accompanied stagnant conversation win. Cassian was obviously going to be around her more and more often, and as long as he upheld his promises, there was no need to make it harder for both of them — especially for the baby’s sake.

“How have you been?”

Cassian tried to disguise his jolt of surprise at her question as an air current.

“I’ve been alright. A bit busy, you know, training new recruits, organising female legions, crushing rebellions, the usual,” he winked. “What about you, sweetheart?”

“Don’t call me that,” she replied instinctively before cringing at herself. She had been trying to make things _less_ tense… 

But Cassian just chuckled. Nesta huffed, hiding her relief. 

After the appointment, where the healer had told them that “everything was progressing nicely”, Cassian flew them home. Well, he flew them towards Nesta’s house, and was a couple minutes away when she caught a sweet scent. Her stomach grumbled, despite her having eaten two large meals. Cassian’s fae ears picked up the noise. 

“Are you hungry?”

“The lemon tart smells very good,” Nesta admitted. 

Cassian brought them down in front of the vendor. 

He bought them each a slice, tipping the vendor generously, and handed her one piece. She gobbled hers down, forgetting his presence and getting lost in the sweet and tangy deliciousness of the pastry. 

When she looked up, Cassian was staring at her with a coy smile. 

She raised an eyebrow at him. _What?_

 _Nothing sweetheart_ , his expression replied. He held out his slice. He had only taken a few bites. “Do you want mine?” 

Nesta’s face remained unchanged, but she hesitated. He had paid for the food, and she didn’t want to deprive him of-

“Here.” He cut the slice into 2 pieces, and handed her the larger one. Before she could protest, he bit into his own piece.

She rolled her eyes but took the other piece gratefully.

He looked smug as they flew to her house. She sent him a sharp, questioning glance. 

“So that’s what cravings are like, huh?” His voice was entirely too jovial. 

Nesta didn’t bother to reply, since he already knew the answer. 

Upon landing, Nesta wordlessly unlocked her door and entered. It took her a second to notice that Cassian hadn’t followed her, and was instead standing right outside the open door. She shot him a look and he entered, shutting the door behind him.

They sat down at the table, in the same position as one month prior.

They both stared at each other in silence, daring the other one to speak, until-

“Are you-”

“Have you-”

They both began at the same time and then paused.

 _Go ahead_ , his eyes conveyed.

 _Just say whatever you wanted to say_ , her look responded.

Cassian bowed first. “Have you had a lot of cravings recently?” 

“Yes, I think so. The other day, I ate a whole bag of potatoes, after boiling them. And last week, I ate fish for dinner every night. I’ve also been craving macarons, of course. The ones at the shop are delicious,” Nesta disclosed. 

“What shop?”

His tone was light but the question itself was heavy, though he had no way of knowing. She hadn’t exactly been trying to hide her job but she also didn’t want people (the Inner Circle) to know about it. There was no reason to hide it from Cassian, since if he were going to reveal her secrets, this would not be the one he’d choose. But her job, and her relationship with Brielle and Khoniya was something independent of everyone else in her life, and part of her wanted to keep it that way. 

But so far Cassian had not shown up to her house unannounced, so perhaps, as long as she was vague, she could answer his question without worrying about him invading that semi-sacred part of her life. 

Maybe sacred wasn’t the right word, but to be friends with 2 females she admired greatly who did not fear her sharp edges or her tempest of emotions, and to know that she bond with them was not out of a sense of obligation for the blood they’d once shared or their desire to make others happy… to know that they were friends with her because _they wanted to be_ , and to be sure that, despite the short amount of time they’d known each other, no matter how badly Nesta fucked up her relationship with her sisters or Cassian, they’d have her back, was wholly new. Nesta found that not only did she enjoy it, it made her feel more confident in herself. As if she’d found a place here, in her sister’s city, where she’d felt unwelcomed and undeserving (and as always, like a burden). 

She did not want to give Cassian the power to take that all away. But she didn’t want to appear cold and uncaring either.

She almost laughed at herself. The Nesta of a few months ago would have slapped her. She had been trying so hard not to let her unfeeling mask crack. Now, however, she just wanted to have a comfortable enough relationship with the male in front of her so that her child could be raised by two parents who weren’t constantly bickering.

Her worries and anger at Cassian had far from disappeared; however, it was not as though she needed to be in a romantic relationship with him. Just a functional one (semi-functional would probably be a more realistic goal). 

“The shop where I work,” Nesta decided to reveal. “I get free macarons. Best perk, in my opinion.”

Cassian chuckled. His hazel eyes shone with interest. He clearly wanted to pry, but refrained from doing so. Nesta felt a sudden wave of relief at his discretion. 

“Have you always liked macarons?”

“I used to eat them at parties when I was a child. We weren’t allowed to eat too many, because that would be impolite, but once I snuck a few in my dress to eat at home.”

Her tone then hardened. “I didn’t eat them after my father’s business failed, of course. We were no longer invited to those types of parties and didn’t have the kind of money to spend on such frivolous things.” Nesta bit her tongue to refrain from adding, _though I’m sure you’ve heard all about our struggles with poverty and my uselessness from my darling sister and High Lady, Feyre._

“Yeah, macarons are pretty pricey. I never ate one till I was, like, 200 years old,” Cassian mentioned casually. His serious expression told her that he knew her childhood was a sensitive topic and he was grateful that she was willing to talk about it with him.

“The first time I ate chocolate, I thought it was the food of the gods,” Cassian added. 

“How old were you?”

If Cassian was surprised that Nesta was willing to show that she was interested in learning about him, he hid it. 

“I must have been a teenager. Maybe 14? 15? Rhysand’s mother gave it to us. Rhysand was used to it, but I had no idea what it was. I’d never eaten something that color before besides, like, bread and rice, so I was a bit hesitant to try it. I didn’t tell them it was my first time trying it, but I’m pretty sure Rhys’ mom knew.”

Cassian smiled fondly but somewhat sadly. 

Nesta suddenly recalled her mother’s large hands — had they truly been large, or had Nesta simply been small? — dusting off the dirt from Elain’s scraped knees and kissing them to make them all better. Mothers could be truly magical at times. 

She was going to be a mother. The realization struck her again. Each time, it surprised her, though at this point she should have already gotten used to the idea — right?

Was she expected to be a kind, warm, guiding presence that magically knew exactly what her child needed?

Sensing her rising panic, Cassian switched the topic to one he knew would bring her a sense of calm and familiarity. “So, did you end up finishing that book that we discussed last time?”

“Yes, I did.” 

“Would you mind telling me the rest of the story, sweetheart?”

The glare she sent his way was clearly not heartfelt as she dove back into the tale.

“The real female went to go see the Dream Spinster, to trade her dreams for his comfort and freedom…” 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave comments & kudos! 
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> I know this chapter was a little OC-backstory heavy but I promise it's important. I hope you guys liked it.
> 
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> Thanks for reading :) Hope you enjoyed it!


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys! Thanks for all your amazing comments!!  
> I'm a little uncertain about this chapter for a variety of reasons, including the fact that it's my first time writing smut, but hopefully it's ok.  
> Thanks to my beta, Kayleigh!
> 
> WARNING: SEXUALLY EXPLICIT CONTENT IN THIS CHAPTER
> 
> Let me know what you think in the comments! Enjoy the chapter!

“Yummy!” Yaran exclaimed enthusiastically. Nesta smiled, watching him devour the cake she’d bought at the local patisserie. 

“What do we say?” Khoniya reminded her son gently. She wiped his mouth and tucked his dark reddish-brown hair behind his fox ear, which he’d inherited from his mother. 

“Thank you.” Yaran’s wide, dark blue eyes were serious as they looked at her. 

Nesta replied, “You’re very welcome.”

He grinned before settling into a corner of the rug of the floor. He occupied himself with the small wooden cubes, which he assembled in different structures, and the small wooden animals. He made different sound effects as he moved different pieces, indicating that certain animals were flying or fighting or sleeping. 

The first time Yaran had visited, he’d clung to his mother. He kept avoiding Nesta’s gaze, hiding behind Khoniya, and had seemed very shy and quiet. Nesta wondered if all small children were going to be afraid of her. Would her child be an exception? What would she do if her child _wasn’t_ an exception?

But the second time Yaran visited, he had recognized her and come out of his shell. He hummed and danced around her house, as Nesta and Khoniya tried to hide their laughter lest he think they were mocking him. He managed to tire himself out, and fell asleep before Khoniya left. 

Now, on the third visit, Yaran was completely comfortable. Today he wasn’t hyperactive, but was in a calm, joyous mood, meaning his presence didn’t interrupt their reading/writing lesson at all. 

“Thanks for getting cake. You didn’t have to,” Khoniya said, finishing her own slice.

Nesta waved her off. “It just gave me an excuse to get some cake.”

They chuckled.

That evening, as Khoniya and Yaran opened Nesta’s front door to return home, they found a tall, lean man with black hair and moon-colored skin waiting for them.

“Papa!” Yaran exclaimed as he ran towards the man, who lifted the child above his head and spun him around, eliciting an excited yelp from the boy. 

Khoniya approached him next. The male tucked Yaran into his hip, put an arm around Khoniya’s waist and pecked the female on the lips. 

“I got off work early, so I thought I’d walk you guys home,” he told her. Khoniya blushed and smiled, putting her head on his shoulder. Nesta was about to close the door, when Khoniya whispered something in the male’s ear. He released her and handed her Yaran before walking up to Nesta.

“Hello,” he said with a grin. “I’m Elian.”

“I’m Nesta. Nice to meet you.”

“Yeah, same here. Thanks for everything you’re doing for Khoniya. I know she really appreciates it. I’m glad you’re friends.” He ran a hand through his short hair. “She’s had some trouble making friends in Velaris,” he grimaced. His expression told Nesta everything she needed to know about why Khoniya had had trouble in that area. Nesta recalled Khoniya’s explanation about people’s disapproval of her relationship with Elian and even Brielle’s brief mention of the insults she’d experienced upon arrival in Velaris.

He continued, “But she’s incredible, and she deserves so much more. And from what she’s told me, you’re pretty amazing yourself. I’m glad you found each other.” 

Nesta did not know how to respond. “Oh. Thank you.” 

Elian tugged his mouth upwards, forming a half-smile. 

Nesta noticed that his eyes, which had first appeared as black as his hair, was actually dark blue, like his son’s. 

Elian cast a glance at Nesta’s protruding belly, but didn’t say anything. Sensing his question, she added, “I’m pregnant.”

“Sorry if I was staring, I just didn’t want to assume.” He seemed apologetic. 

“It’s fine.”

“Well, if you ever need any help or anything, or if you just need a babysitter, Khoniya and I are always willing to help out.”

“Thank you.”

“Okay, I should get going now, but it really was a pleasure to meet you, Nesta. I hope we’ll meet again soon.”

“Likewise.” 

He gave another friendly smile before returning to his family. As they walked away, Yaran waved to Nesta over his father’s shoulder.

* * *

“You do want to find out the gender today, right?” Cassian asked her as they prepared to go to see the healer.

Nesta nodded. 

“Are you excited? Or nervous?” Cassian asked, seeming both excited and nervous.

“I don’t know.” She wrapped her arms around him, and sent him a glance. He shot into the air. 

“What about you?” She asked. 

“Oh! I’m… I don’t really care about gender but finding out makes it so much more real.” He sent her a wary look. “Sorry, I know it’s been months and I already know it’s real. And I should be used to the idea, I am in some ways, but at the same time it’s so, um,” he scrunched his brow, trying to find the right word.

Perhaps taking pity on his struggle, Nesta said, “I understand. I feel the same way sometimes.”

He seemed both surprised and relieved at her comment. 

At the healer’s office, Nesta and Cassian took their usual spots — her on the bed, him on the chair. The healer asked Nesta her routine questions about her health and activity, and then checked the fetal heartbeat.

“You are now at 21 weeks,” the healer explained. “You will probably start to feel the baby move soon.”

The healer shuffled her papers. “You’re a little more than halfway through the pregnancy. Personally, I would recommend that you start thinking about the logistics of where your child is going to live, what crib they are going to use, where you are planning on nursing the child, what clothing your child will wear, etc. In the third trimester, you will likely have less energy to plan for all those things, and babies frequently arrive early, though hopefully not in this case.”

Cassian nodded.

“Yes, my friend gave me that advice as well,” Nesta noted. “Is there anything specific you recommend?”

“A rocking chair is good for nursing and getting the baby to sleep,” the healer replied. She tapped her pen against her notepad. “You should probably get a pacifier, crib, blankets, baby clothes, and linen wrappings. If you plan to have a nursery, you can get that set up. Also, parents tend to do this at different times, but you could start thinking about names.”

Cassian’s eyes widened and he seemed to pale slightly. Nesta only nodded. 

“Do you have any stores you’d recommend?” she asked.

The healer turned towards her desk, opened a drawer and then handed Nesta a pamphlet. 

“It’s a list of stores in Velaris that have baby items. I’m sure there’s more, but that list is a good way to start.”

Cassian glanced at Nesta, and she passed him the list. It included about 20 locations.

“Alright,” the healer said after a few moments, clasping her hands together. “Would you like to know your baby’s gender?”

At that, the two parents’ heads snapped up and nodded. Healer Galen brought out a bowl, which she dipped her hands into. The bowl glowed purple. 

“Okay, before I perform the spell, I would like you to know that while it will accurately show the baby’s biological gender, which we healers call the sex of the baby, it does not account for the gender identity of the child, which may be completely different. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” Nesta answered as Cassian nodded. 

“Great.” The healer placed her hands on top of Nesta’s baby bump. 

After a few minutes, the healer removed her hands. “Congratulations, it’s female.”

Cassian inhaled sharply. His eyes were wide in contrast with his small grin.

Nesta was silent. 

She remained mute on the way home. Cassian explained apologetically that he had to get back to the House of Wind tonight so he couldn’t spend time with her, as they’d become accustomed to doing after appointments, but she stayed expressionless. She only broke her silence to indicate her assent when Cassian asked if he could come over in one week’s time to discuss and begin preparing for the baby’s arrival.

It was only after Cassian departed, and the last lights of the sun disappeared, that Nesta allowed herself to feel her emotions. 

A daughter. 

How the fuck was she supposed to take care of a daughter? It was clear she was only good at raising girls to hate her, as demonstrated by her two younger sisters. 

Her child… would her daughter, as the child of the Night Court’s general and the niece of the High Lord and Lady, be expected to be married off like a prize mare, like Nesta was supposed to before her status had dropped? 

Nesta’s stomach dropped as another realisation hit her. Her daughter would be fae. Meaning, her daughter would have a mate. And try as Nesta might, she couldn’t guarantee that she could protect her child — after all, Nesta had been useless again Tamlin, hadn’t she? 

A female. The world was not the same for males and females; a fact Nesta wished was not true, but which continued to be a reality, even here. To a female, the world was filled with males who wanted — no, felt _entitled_ — to hurt her and use her for their own pleasure. The world was a cage, as she was passed from being under the care of her father, to her husband. Freedom was a faraway dream — whatever was accorded to her was only by the mercy of her husband. Females roamed the world with caution, looking over their shoulder and walking faster when a male was behind them. They had to obey a thousand social rules, always striving for perfection that couldn’t be achieved. A female was judged at every step, by males who thought they had a right to tell her what to do with her own body, by females who fed their own ego by tearing down others. 

Nesta was powerless to stop any of it from happening. Nesta hadn’t even been able to protect _herself_ from the cauldron and had barely escaped from Tomas. She couldn’t stop Feyre, her brave and strong youngest sister, from leaving or staying with an abusive asshole. Elain, her little sister who had managed to stay sweet and kind despite all the poverty and hunger life had thrown their way, had been shoved into the cauldron and had broken before Nesta’s eyes. How was she going to ensure that her daughter would be safe and sound for her immortal life?

Nesta shut her eyes and let out a sigh. Thoughts of her sisters were unwelcome. They brought with them too many emotions — guilt, longing, anger, betrayal, pain, jealousy, loneliness, sadness, despair, pride. 

Still, even her sisters, who were now in a better place, with a supportive group of friends and kind lovers, were only where they were because of Rhysand. Had Feyre’s mate been anyone else, their lives would be completely different — it wouldn’t matter how strong Feyre was or how kind Elain was. In the end, males still ruled the world. 

Her thoughts shifted to Khoniya and Brielle. They had both endured and overcome a plethora of struggles (they hadn't discussed many of them in detail, but somethings didn’t need to be said). Being a female, from another court, especially a Lesser fae female, was difficult. But Brielle — bubbly and bright Brielle — and Khoniya — calm and kind Khoniya — had not just survived all that life had thrown their way. No, they had embraced their obstacles and had grown. Although she wished they hadn’t had to face so many challenges, Nesta also knew that they would not have become the fae they were today if they hadn’t experienced such pain. 

Khoniya never took her newfound family for granted because she knew the pain of having to leave your family behind. Brielle, having realized that even her dream city had its own share of darkness, chose to see the good in everything and make the most of every situation — there was always a reason to be sad, so why not choose to be excited about every small piece of happiness? 

There was no need to rule the world. You just needed to understand how to live in it — not survive it, but _live_. Still, how was she supposed to teach her daughter how to do that when she was just starting to understand it herself?

She glanced at the night sky outside her window. The stars shone brightly. The same stars that had looked down upon her when she’d been human, that had been there since before she was born and would still be there long after she died. Perhaps some found comfort in these unchanging orbs of light, but Nesta found them to be cold. It was like when you felt better when it rained when you were sad. The stars seemed to mock her petty existence and all the wishes people and fae made upon them. They were unmoving and unknowable — as Nesta herself had once strove to be. 

Nesta much preferred the moon. It was eternally in a state of change, waxing and waning — constantly inconstant. 

As she observed the night sky, she wondered at her own newfound immortality. It was something she often kept herself from thinking about, because as a human, she had been taught that life was precious because it ended. You valued everyday, because you knew you would only have, at most, a century to roam this plane of existence. What, then, was the purpose of a life when the days stretched out endlessly before you, turning into decades, centuries and millennia? 

Maybe, she considered, she could accept this life, this immortality, if she decided to live like the moon rather than the stars. 

Nesta closed the curtains. As she changed into her nightgown and undid her braid, another bit of her past struck her. Nesta had once overheard her parents discussing whether or not they should try for another child. 

_There’s no guarantee it’ll be a boy_ , her father had said.

_I wish I could’ve given you a son_ , her mother had replied.

_It’s not your fault_ , her father had assured her. _Besides, we thought Nesta and Feyre would be boys._

Although Nesta knew that her parents loved them, she also knew her parents had wished for a son. Just like everyone else, they wanted an heir, someone to carry on their legacy and family name. 

Was Cassian disappointed the baby was female?

Nesta unsuccessfully tried to dismiss the worry from her mind. 

She climbed into bed. After a few more minutes of worrying, she decided to think instead about the plot of the latest book she’d read, where a lady fell in love with a stableboy.

She soon drifted off into Morpheus’ realm. 

* * *

He raised an eyebrow. “Won’t you come have an adventure with me?” 

Cassian stood at the edge of the ocean, his muscular chest bare. 

Nesta grasped his outstretched hand and then clung to his neck as they shot to the sky. 

“Where are you taking me?”

Cassian whispered into her ear, “If I told you, sweetheart, that’d ruin the surprise.”

His breath on her neck and his low whispering tone made her shiver.

Cassian, sensing her reaction, laughed. His chest rumbled with the noise. 

They landed on sand. 

Nesta reluctantly let go of him and lowered herself to the ground. 

“Look,” Cassian said. Nesta’s gaze turned in the direction that he was pointing and caught her breath. It was the most beautiful sunrise she’d ever seen. The sky was streaked in a million colors and a flock of black birds flying in the distance contrasted beautifully. Her sister would have wanted to paint the scene and make it last forever. Nesta, however, was content to just observe the sight. 

The clouds moved, and the sun continued to rise until day officially broke. After what felt like both an eternity and mere seconds, Cassian tugged on her arm and she turned around. 

He turned towards the hot spring. Nesta didn’t know how she hadn’t noticed it before. 

They walked up to it. Cassian removed his clothing, pausing before getting rid of his last layer. 

“Aren’t you coming?” He asked.

Nesta raised an eyebrow at him, which he correctly interpreted to mean _Turn around because I’m not getting naked in front of you_. 

Cassian smirked but turned away, shedding his underwear and entering the water. 

Nesta removed her own clothing and walked to the edge of the hotspring.

Cassian had waded in, and the water reached just under his belly button.

Nesta dipped her foot in the water. It was warm — honestly, it was a little too hot but in a pleasant way.

She entered the water, and waded in. She had reached the point where the water was just under her knees when she suddenly recalled the Cauldron’s swirling waters overwhelming her. 

_Focus Nesta_ , she told herself. _The Cauldron was so, so cold. This is hot water. Not cold._

She walked a few more steps, and the water covered her knees. The water splashed as she moved and she found she could no longer move. She gasped softly. 

The Cauldron’s waters swirled. There was no way to hang on to the edges. She was going under. _Nesta Archeron_ , it called tauntingly. _Nesta. Nesta._

It’s voice had changed. It sounded rather like — “Cassian?” she gasped.

“Nesta!” He was holding on to her arm. His hazel eyes were worried. “Hey, sweetheart. Are you alright?”

Nesta took a moment to adjust. She was in a hot spring with Cassian, not in the Cauldron. 

“I don’t know,” she replied quietly. 

Cassian wrapped his arms around her. She closed her eyes, and let everything fade away. All she could feel was Cassian’s strong heartbeat. She breathed in his comforting scent. 

After a few minutes or hours, she realized that they were standing naked, skin-to-skin. She hesitated for a moment, but then decided, _why the hell not?_ She pressed a small kiss against his neck. 

She felt him shift slightly.

She traced down his neck towards his shoulder, pressing kisses. 

He swallowed, and clutched her tighter. 

She reached the tip of his shoulder when he groaned, “You want to play, sweetheart?”

Gods, that voice. Perhaps he noticed her squirming. “You like this?” he asked in a low voice, before gently biting her earlobe. She arched her neck, and he traced it with his tongue.

He moved his hands down her back and gripped her butt. 

As if in answer, she put her hand between them and grabbed his length — which she found to be already somewhat hard. 

“Nes-” he groaned as her hand moved. Suddenly, he gave her a playful smile and lifted her.

He carried her bridal style to the edge of the hot spring, which was lined with large rocks, and set her down. 

“Nesta,” he whispered, his mouth finding her breasts, and then shifting lower, lower, lower. 

When he was satisfied with her moans, he moved back up her body. Nesta wrapped her hand around him once more. His eyes closed, and he let out a grunt — but pulled away a few moments later. 

When she seemed disappointed, he laughed softly and kissed her hard. 

“Not right now,” he said. He looked at her with a question in his eyes and she nodded. He spread her legs and entered her slowly. And then faster. Harder. 

Nesta’s legs wrapped around his waist. 

Passion filled the air as they gripped each other, moaning each other’s name. The world disappeared and it was only them, only now. 

She shattered and he followed. 

He rolled off her after a few moments. They rested until the euphoria faded.

She shifted to rest her head on his chest, but paused first to give him a soft kiss. Well, it was meant to be a soft kiss, but he opened his mouth, and they were lost once more to the thrall of lust and love. 

“Cass” she moaned as she found her release, again and again — 

And then, she woke up. 

* * *

“Here’s your share for this month,” Brielle said, handing Nesta an envelope.

Nesta peeked inside the envelope, expecting around the same amount as the previous month. Her eyes widened. 

She looked up at Brielle’s laugh.

“Sorry, it’s just you looked so shocked,” Brielle said, trying to stop laughing.

“It’s okay,” Nesta replied. “I was just surprised. It’s… a lot.”

“Well, our overall profit doubled this month, so I figured our salaries should reflect that, right?” Brielle grinned. 

Nesta smiled back.

“Okay, question,” Brielle asked. 

Nesta nodded, indicating that she should keep talking.

“So, I keep a certain amount of money — of profit — saved up for the boutique, separate from the rent and all that. But thanks to this month, we now have a lot of savings. The place next door, Vin-et-un, is moving to a different location. We have enough money to expand to that as well, even if this month was just a fluke,” Brielle explained.

“Do you want to expand the boutique?”

“Well, I was thinking that we could use the space to do something a little different. What would you think of a clothing shop? Or a bookshop? Maybe a tea shop or café?”

“Well, we would need to buy a _lot_ of new materials, but if you think that it’s possible financially, I think we should add something that’s lacking in the boutique. I don’t think we have enough expertise to really get into fashion, and we already carry the easy accessory-like items. As for books, well, I used to work in a bookstore, so I have some knowledge in that area.”

“Is it an area that interests you? There’s no point if you don’t like it.”

“I do, I do, trust me. You mentioned a tea shop. Again, I don’t have much expertise there but it could be interesting, since the closest place to get a quick bite, besides getting groceries or actually sitting down at a restaurant, is Lucynthia’s. A lot of customers are a bit thirsty…” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave a comment!
> 
> I hope you guys liked this chapter. As I wrote in the beginning, I'm a little worried about this chapter: I love some parts of it (like my lowkey feminist rant hehe) but I also felt a little uninspired for some scenes.  
> Also, like I said, it's my first time writing smut.  
> Anyway, I'm super excited for what I have planned for the next chapter!  
> It will (hopefully) be posted within the next 2 weeks.
> 
> Come talk to me on Tumblr (sayosdreams) if you have a prompt or oneshot / drabble idea or if you just wanna chat :)


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! Here's a slightly shorter chapter (I wasn't feeling very inspired whoops).  
> There's some swear words in this chapter. Hope that's ok.
> 
> Thanks for all your nice comments!
> 
> Hope you enjoy this chapter

“What about your mother’s name?” 

“No,” Nesta replied sharply. “I don’t want to name my daughter after anyone. I want her to be herself.”

“Okay.” Cassian rubbed the back of his neck. “Do you have any ideas?”

“I borrowed some books from the library with different names and meaning. I have a few that I like.” Nesta collected said books from her bookshelf, and placed them on the table in front of Cassian. He flipped through the pages. 

“Carina is a nice name,” he remarked absently. “So is Ara.”

Nesta rolled her eyes and let out a huff that sounded slightly like derisive laughter. 

“What?” he said defensively.

“Of course you’d want to name our child after a constellation.” 

Cassian raised an eyebrow. His expression seemed to say, _I am the General of the Night Court’s Illyrian army, you know._

Nesta shrugged one shoulder. _More like the puppet of the Night Court’s High Lord._

“Well what names do you like?” His tone was slightly exasperated.

Nesta retrieved a sheet of paper from her bedside table. “Here’s a list I made with some initial ideas.”

The paper had a little less than 20 names with small notes besides them, explaining the meaning or association. 

Cassian’s eyes scanned the list. He pointed at a few of them. “I like these.”

Nesta nodded. 

“Can we take Emlyn off the list?” he asked sheepishly, his eyes resting on the table. “I, uh, had an ex with that name…”

“Okay,” she agreed, though her jaw tightened. _I’m sure if we eliminated all the names of your lovers, there’d be no names left._

Cassian’s eyes glinted. _I’m hundreds of years old, darling. What’s your excuse? At least I bothered to learn their names, which is more than can be said for you._

Nesta narrowed her eyes. “How fucking dare you,” she whispered. Her voice was so quiet that only Cassian’s fae ears could pick it up, but it was strong.

Cassian smirked dangerously. “Me? Sweetheart,” he bit out the word provokingly, “I haven’t done anything. Are you jealous?”

Nesta’s expression turned hard. She scoffed, “Jealous? Only in your dreams.”

“You know what my dreams are filled with? You, wrapping your legs around my head, and me making you moan,” he was leaning in towards her now. “Making you cum for me again and again, just like that night…”

Nesta refused to let the blush rise to her cheeks. 

“We were drunk.”

“I know. Imagine how much better it’d be if we were both sober,” he purred. 

Nesta looked away and took a deep breath. 

“Anyway, we need to go buy some baby clothes, and decide what to do about the crib, rocking chair, and any other furniture we might need.”

“Trying to change the topic, Nes?”

“I am actually trying to be a responsible parent and prepare for this child, because I care about her,” she said sharply and accusingly. 

Cassian’s lighthearted, flirty expression disappeared. “You don’t think I care about this child?”

Nesta remained silent.

“Of course I care! You think I enjoy lying to my family about where I’m going and hiding parenting books from them? You think I’d stay up thinking about this child, worried about what might happen to them and what kind of parent I’ll be if I didn’t give a shit?”

Cassian seemed deeply offended. “If anything, Nesta, you’re the one that needs to think about how much you care about our daughter.”

“Excuse me?” 

“I mean, you’re trying to keep this baby a secret. Don’t you think she deserves a family?”

“Of course I do! That’s why I told you!”

“Yeah, after forcing me not to tell my brothers or my High Lord and High Lady. Do you even understand how it makes me feel to have to lie to them about something like this?” 

Nesta suppressed the urge to roll her eyes. She should have known that the Inner Circle was his family, the one he cared about more than anything — including the baby.

“If you want to stop lying,” her voice was frighteningly quiet, “and your family is the most important thing to you, then fine.”

“What?”

“You want to stop sneaking around and hiding things right? Stop lying about why you’re sleepless? Then fine,” she raised her chin higher, swallowing the urge to cry. “Just stop.” She shrugged. “There’s no need for you to come to appointments with me if you don’t want to. I can find a way to get everything I need to prepare for her, and I can raise her on my own for a while.”

Cassian blinked slowly.

“You can meet her when she’s older,” Nesta continued. “I know that you probably want to be with her as soon as she’s born, but you can’t take her away from me that quickly because she does need to be fed by me. And babies also calm down when they hear their mother’s heartbeat.” 

She didn’t want to be saying this. But if Cassian couldn’t keep compromising himself as an honorable male, if these lies were tearing him up inside, then she’d let him go along with her hopes of giving her daughter a proper family with parents. 

“I’d obviously want her to spend half her time with me while she’s growing up, but if that’s not-” Nesta gulped, her unfeeling mask slipping due to lack of use. “I want to see her sometimes.”

“Nesta,” Cassian’s voice was too soft. “I’m not going to take her away from you. And yes, I hate lying to my family, and yes, they are important to me. But right now, our daughter is more important. Sure, I’m worried about the millions of dangers out there in the world that could hurt her and the millions of ways I could screw up as a parent, but that doesn’t mean I’d want to miss any part of raising her.”

Nesta debated revealing her own worries, but decided to say, “I’m sure you’ll be an amazing parent. Why are you so worried? I mean, you’re almost 600 years old.”

“Still closer to 500, Nes. And besides, why does age matter?” Cassian asked, smiling.

“I mean, surely you’ve had children before?” 

Cassian shook his head. “Fae children are very rare. I’ve never, ah, been in a situation where I was _trying_ to have a child, either, so,” Cassian rubbed the back of his neck. His ears were pink. 

“I see,” she replied. She now felt foolish for assuming his age meant he had experience in that area. 

Cassian cleared his throat. “Nes, about what you said earlier,” he began. Nesta suppressed the urge to sigh. She didn’t want to revisit their argument.

She decided to interject, “Don’t call me Nes.”

He continued, unphased, “I wanted to thank you for telling me.”

 _Oh._ Nesta just looked away and nodded. _I wanted my child to have a father. And you deserved to know._

“And I wanted to let you know that I also want to be- I mean, I also want our daughter to have a family.”

Nesta really did not want to restart the debate about telling the Inner Circle. “Cassian-”

“I mean us. I want us to raise her together.”

Nesta smiled slightly. “Me too.”

Cassian’s eyes were warm. After a moment, he looked around.

“Are you planning on raising her here?” His voice was free of judgement.

“I could, but I was hoping to maybe move somewhere close by that’s a little bit bigger,” she replied.

Cassian asked hesitantly, “Would you be interested in buying a house with me? So that we could live together with the baby?” 

Nesta blinked. “Wouldn’t your family notice if you no longer slept in their house?”

“I have my own apartment,” he explained. “I stay there sometimes. It’s not big enough, though.” 

Nesta nodded slowly. “Sure.”

Cass grinned. “Okay, let’s add house shopping to the long list of things we need to do.”

Nesta let an amused expression linger on her face.

After a few moments, she rolled her shoulder and straightened her posture.

“So for today, I was thinking that we could visit some of these stores,” Nesta said, pointing to a list Khoniya had made for her. “These ones sell baby clothing, these sell pacifiers and blankets and such items, apparently.” 

Cassian just nodded. 

Once outside, she wrapped her arms around him and they shot into the air.

* * *

Nesta’s jaw dropped.

“Told you it was big,” Brielle whispered.

“Yeah but I didn’t think you meant this huge,” Nesta replied at the same volume.

Khoniya blushed slightly and cleared her throat. “We’ll eat in the regular dining room, if that’s okay with you two.”

They nodded.

They had decided to have the weekly dinner at Khoniya’s house this week, because Elian had to work late and it was easier for Khoniya to just put Yaran to bed and stay home. 

Brielle had informed her that Khoniya and Elian lived in a large house, but she had not expected the house to be this grand.

From what Nesta could tell, it had at least 12 bedrooms, 14 bathrooms, 3 studies, a large kitchen and pantry, a formal living room, an informal living room, a formal dining room, an informal dining room, a parlor, a deck, a playroom and a basement. She was sure there were more rooms that she had not noticed.

“Do you mind my asking why you chose this house?” Nesta said, as the three of them sat down at the table and began digging into the food Brielle had brought (Khoniya had also contributed a few dishes, leaving Nesta feeling slightly guilty, but they’d both reassured her that it was fine). 

Khoniya sighed. “This house used to belong to Elian’s family. His paternal grandfather first lived here with his grandmother, and they had three daughters and two sons. They were very wealthy, as I’m sure you can tell, and they had some maids. They also needed guest bedrooms for the illustrious guests that often stopped by their home. After his grandfather passed away during the War about 500 years ago, Elian’s father and mother lived here, with their children of course. Since there was no need for so many bedrooms, they let one of Elian’s father’s sister, who was not yet mated, live with them as well. They still used all these fancy dining rooms and parlors and all that. When Elian’s father died, about 100 years ago, the house belonged to him, as the oldest son. His two sisters already lived with their lovers — one in the outskirts Velaris, the other in the mountains south of Velaris — and his younger brother already lived in his own apartment, but his mother still lived here. To be quite honest, we would have been fine living in an apartment, but his family insisted we live here, since his father left it to him.” 

Khoniya looked down at her plate. “Elian invited his mother to continue living here but she didn’t approve of our relationship and did not want to live with us. So now we live here in this huge house, but we only use a fraction of it. It’s a waste, really.” 

“Well, it’s a gorgeous house,” Brielle said. “And it’s really safe because of the gates, so that’s good, right?”

“Yes, I suppose,” Khoniya smiled. “It just seems wasteful. I grew up with barely enough, and now I live in a house — a mansion, really — that is the definition of excess. It just doesn’t feel right, sometimes.”

“I understand,” Nesta nodded. “My two sisters and I used to share one bed when we were younger and now she has, like, four houses and dresses in invaluable jewelry and fabrics. It’s fine, I’m happy for her, but it just doesn’t feel right forgetting where you came from, you know? I’m glad we have enough to eat now, but that doesn’t mean everyone does, and it feels wrong to sit at a mahogany table, draped in the finest silks and jewels, being served far too much food by maids.”

Khoniya nodded. “I try not to judge others, and I don’t know your sister. Maybe she really does enjoy that luxury lifestyle,” she said. “But for me, living in luxury makes me feel like a fraud. I mean, this house is fine, because it belonged to the family of the male I love, but like- At the end of the day, even if I’m dressed in the latest fashion, I’m still going to be worried about people jeering at me or attacking me, telling me that I don’t belong here, in the city of their dreams. In the end, no matter what costume I wear, or how much money I hide behind, I’m still a Lower fae from the Autumn Court.”

“Does it happen often?” Nesta asked after a pause. “Do people often try to hurt you just for being you?”

Khoniya bit her lip. “These days, I try to hide my hair and ears, so it’s not that noticeable. Usually, it’s not that bad. Most people won’t openly attack you. They’ll just look at you weirdly, gossip about you, and make unpleasant remarks. I mean, it makes sense that they’re very protective of Velaris — many fae died defending the city and of course, the High Lord gave up his freedom for almost half a century to protect it — but it’s a little sad that they don’t think I can have a place in their dream city. It’s not just that they don’t think my dreams are worth anything, it’s that they don’t even have a place for fae like me in their ideal city.”

Silver lined Khoniya’s eyes. 

Brielle grasped one of Khoniya’s hands. Nesta grabbed the other comfortingly. 

“Khoniya, I know how difficult it can be. You know, you’re the only reason why I was able to stay here and begin living my dream,” Brielle said. “Sure, there are bigots and xenophobes and haters. But for the people that matter — for Elian, for Yaran — there’s nothing in Velaris for them without you.”

“For me, too. I don’t think you two understand how much I value your friendship,” Nesta said. “I have never really had real friends. And I don’t belong in this world but- but when I’m here, I feel like maybe I can find my place.” _Maybe the infinite expanse of days and years before me could be something more than endless self-hatred and loneliness._

* * *

The bell clinked as the last customer exited the shop. 

Brielle and Nesta slumped to the floor. Today had been a long day, full of irritating customers and having to explain that no, the prices were not up for debate and no, they were not doing to stop selling orange mobiles just because it ‘hurt to look at’ due to its color. 

There had been far too much need to explain that yes, all customers had to wait in line, even the ones that were busy. No, the candy was not complimentary, that’s why they put a price on it.

Really, the only good thing about their day was that Khoniya had stopped by at the end of the day. She’d taken one look at their exhausted faces and declared that they were going to go eat out tonight as her treat. 

“Do you guys want me to help close up?” Khoniya asked.

Brielle sighed dramatically before getting up. “It’s fine.” She reached out a hand and helped Nesta to her feet. “Let’s just lock up.”

Khoniya assigned herself to clean up duty, and mopped the floor. 

As Brielle wrote in her accounting book and Nesta organized the scarves, the former mentioned, “Oh, yeah. I ordered some of the books you suggested.”

“Do you have any suggestions? I know a lot of mine were human authors,” Nesta replied.

“Yeah, I also ordered a few of my favorites. But I think also having human authored books will make our bookshop unique, don’t you think?”

“That’s true. Although if some avid readers adore popular fae authors, we should have some in stock.”

“Are you guys done?” Khoniya called. The floor practically sparkled with cleanliness. 

“Almost!”

“So, any ideas on what you’re going to name your daughter?” Khoniya asked as they walked down the street.

“A few, but we haven’t decided yet.”

“Might I suggest the name Brielle? It’s delightful and it will remind you of your amazing colleague,” Brielle joked.

“No, I couldn’t tolerate that many Brielles in my life,” Nesta replied, smirking.

“Hey!” 

They all laughed. Their chuckles seemed to be amplified by the narrow walls of the street they were on, and their joy seeped into the air. 

Their laughter was suddenly cut short as something cold pressed against each of their throats — a knife. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave a comment and let me know what you thought!
> 
> Also, even though I have always said that I would update about once every 2 weeks during the summer, I have actually been updating about once a week. However, school is starting in 1 month and I realized that I have to actually start all the assignments I've been putting off, so the chapters might ACTUALLY take 2 weeks now (not sure though).
> 
> Anyway, hope you're all safe and healthy 
> 
> (check out my Tumblr @sayosdreams if you want to talk to me, or if you have prompts you want me to write)


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Thank you so much for all you kind comments.  
> Shoutout to @herondales_home for beta-reading this chapter!!
> 
> Please let me know what you think by leaving a comment :D

Nesta froze as she felt the knife. 

A sideways glance told her Brielle and Khoniya had also gone completely still. 

Trying to stop her racing pulse (and avoid a breakdown), she scolded herself for never agreeing to those fighting lessons Feyre and Cassian had pushed her towards. Breathing through her nose, she tried to take in her surroundings. 

It seemed like there were only 2 people — one person helf knives in both their hands to threaten Khoniya and Nesta, while Brielle was held by a different person. Perhaps that information could be used in some way.

“Give us all your money and valuables,” said the one holding Brielle. Her voice was strong and feminine, as if she were used to commanding people.

“Okay,” Khoniya said, taking out some type of necklace from her purse. “Where should I put it?”

Nesta had no idea why Khoniya was trying to talk to their assailants.

“Drop them on the floor,” said the one holding Nesta and Khoniya. The voice was masculine, but not very deep. It seemed like they were not yet an adult.

Khoniya dropped the necklace around elbow’s length away from her, then retrieved her wallet, this time extending her full arm before dropping it. 

Were they really going to comply?

Khoniya made eye contact with her. Her eyes were glimmering with mischief. 

Khoniya removed her bracelet slowly.

Brielle had dropped her wallet and was removing her watch.

Nesta decided to pretend to comply, and dropped her wallet as well.

Khoniya turned towards her under the pretense of removing an earring, made eye contact with Brielle and then Nesta. 

Brielle gently placed her watch on the ground.

Khoniya mouthed, “Grab his wrist” to Nesta. 

There was no need to say “on my signal” — they were close enough to understand each other. Nesta’s head twitched, indicating her assent.

Khoniya lifted her hands and lowered her head, removing the other earring. 

Then she suddenly twisted the assailant’s wrist and bit down hard on his arm. Shocked, the attacker let out a small yelp and loosened his grip slightly. Khoniya quickly twisted herself, and kneed the assailant in his genitals. As he bent forward in pain, Nesta twisted his other wrist, creating enough space for her to duck out of his grasp. 

At the yelp, the other assailant had turned around — it was the perfect distraction Brielle needed to elbow her attacker’s jaw, bend down, and slide out from under her attacker’s grasp. Brielle held onto the knife-holding arm, twisting it behind the assailant’s back. 

When Nesta looked back at Khoniya, she had done the same with one of the male attacker’s arms, while she had simply bent his other wrist, making him drop the other knife.

“Nesta, come here,” she called. “Can you remove the scarf around my head?”

Nesta did as she was asked, and handed it to Khoniya, who tied the scarf around the attacker’s wrists. 

At Khoniya’s look, Nesta kicked his groin once more. Khoniya then kicked the back of his knees — or was it his thigh? Anyhow, the male fell to his knees. Khoniya disarmed his other hand, and put him in a choke hold. 

Brielle had also disarmed her assailant. 

Nesta, suddenly wanting to feel useful, picked up all the valuables she and her friends had been forced to give up. 

Once she was done, Brielle declared, “We’re turning you in.”

“Good luck dealing with the constable,” Khoniya added in a threatening tone Nesta had never heard her use before.

“Velaris has a constable?” asked the female attacker.

As she studied them, Nesta suddenly realized that they both seemed very young — they probably hadn’t even settled in their adult bodies yet. They both had dirty blond hair — dirty as in the roots were dark (their hair was actually quite clean) — and pale skin.

“Please,” the male suddenly begged. “We’re sorry. Don’t take us to the constable.” 

Nesta laughed sharply and mockingly. “Don’t you think you should have thought of that before you attacked us?”

“We didn’t want to hurt you!” said the female. “We just wanted to rob you.”

“Okay, first of all, a robbery is a crime,” Brielle retorted. “And secondly, what about the fact that you literally held knives to our throats?” 

“That was just to threaten you!” the female explained. 

“Wow, that makes me feel so much better,” Nesta snorted. 

“Really helps your case. Have fun explaining all that to the constable!” Khoniya added.

“Please,” the female pleaded. “Can’t you just cut off our hands yourselves?”

Brielle raised an eyebrow. “Wha-?”

Another female suddenly appeared in their alley. 

At first, Nesta was worried she was a random stranger who would misinterpret the situation and think Brielle, Khoniya and Nesta were attacking these two fae, but then she saw her hair. It was the same dirty blond hair that the assailants had. 

“Urg,” Brielle groaned, holding up her original attacker’s knife. “I’m tired. Do we really need to fight another one?”

The female was wearing a long, black coat, and black high heels — and was that kohl lining her eyelids? 

Looking at the two captured assailants, she groaned, “What the fuck did you guys get yourselves into now?”

“We’re just trying to rob them!” the male defended. 

Brielle snorted, “Yeah, with a knife.”

The female shifted her glance to Brielle, as if she hadn’t noticed her before. She then turned to Khoniya and Nesta. And then sighed.

“This is why I told you guys to stop. You’re not good at robbing people. I knew this would happen.”

“Oh come on,” the other female pouted. “We’re not that bad. Besides, we’ll get better with practice.”

“No, you won’t,” the black-clad female replied. “This is the last time. You’re done.”

The two assailants began to plead the female.

Brielle cleared her throat. “Um, guys?” 

They fell silent.

Brielle continued. “This _is_ the last time, since we’re taking you to the constable.”

“Please don’t,” the black-clad female begged suddenly. “I’m so sorry about what happened. I’ll give you whatever you want — money or clothes or anything else I have. I promise they’ll never bother you or anyone else again. Please.”

“I’m sorry, but I can’t just take your word for it,” Brielle replied. “I don’t even know who you are-”

“I’m Saibh, and these are my younger siblings Riona and Cian,” she explained. “Please. I’ll give you anything — we can work as your maids forever if you’d like — but just don’t report us. Please. You can cut off their hands and even mine as you see fit.”

“Wow, ok. Listen, Saibh, we have nothing against any of you. We aren’t cutting off any body parts. We’re just going to abide by the law, and let the constable take care of it,” Khoniya said. “It won’t be that bad. They’ll be thrown in jail for a few years, and then they’ll have to do some community service or something, but in the grand scheme of things, what’s a few years when you’re not mortal?”

“You don’t understand,” Riona cried. “That’s not what they’ll do to us.”

“We’re not supposed to be here. They’ll send us home,” Cian said in a low tone.

Khoniya’s eyebrows furrowed. “What?”

“Look, we’ll explain everything, but do you mind letting go of them? I don’t think it’s the most comfortable position and it’s quite a long story,” Saibh said. 

“Do you think we’re that dumb? We aren’t just going to let you guys go,” Brielle rolled her eyes.

Saibh knelt to the ground, holding out her wrists. “We’ll sit like this, and I promise we won’t move. You can each hold a knife if it would make you feel more comfortable.”

“Put your back against the wall,” Khoniya said, and the three of them moved towards the side of the alley following her directions.

“Saibh, we don’t want to hurt you. Are you sure you can’t just leave? We’ll only deal with your siblings,” Khoniya said.

“No. Please let me explain.”

“Fine,” Brielle agreed. “You can explain. At the end, we’ll make our decision. But if any of you even think of trying to escape or attack us, you’re all going to the constable directly. Got it?”

Saibh gulped and nodded. Riona and Cian nodded as well.

“Good. Now start talking.”

“Okay, where should I begin?” Saibh mumbled. 

“We’re from the Court of Nightmares,” Riona said. “Our father is one of the lords of Hewn City. Nowhere near as important as the steward or anyone like that, but he’s still fairly powerful.”

“He fought in the war,” Saibh continued, taking over from her sister, “And he received a minor injury, but nothing serious. Then, about a year and a half ago, he disappeared. We think he was murdered, but the official story is that he went for a surgery to heal the injury and the surgery went wrong. It’s possible that he’s still alive somewhere, though unlikely.”

“Do you know who tricked your father?” Brielle asked.

“We’re not sure. My father has many enemies,” Saibh replied. “Anyway, my elder brother Tiernan took his place as the head of our household.”

“Did your brother and your father get along?”

Cian snorted. “No one got along with Father.”

“Alva did,” Saibh contradicted. Making eye contact with Khoniya, Saibh explained, “Our father had three wives — Oona, his first wife, was given to him for a marriage that his father had arranged to increase their power within Hewn City; Alva, his second wife, was the daughter of a rich male of a slightly lower class that he fell in love with; Orla, his third wife, was the daughter of a lord of around the same status as our father. Father and Oona never got along, and when their marriage only produced one female child 75 years, he married Alva. He no longer paid any attention to Oona. Alva and he were in love, as I mentioned before, and they had two children — but they were both girls. By this time he was already over 150, and he needed to have male heirs. Well, he didn’t _need_ to, I suppose, but Father always hated his younger brother and could not stand the idea of him inheriting his position. Still, Father probably would not have taken on another wife — to be quite honest, he wanted his heir to be him and Alva’s son — but Alva fell ill. Her having another child would have been dangerous to her life and the chances the baby would be healthy were also very low. So Father married Orla, our mother. She gave him four children — two males and two females. Father was obviously happy about the males, and didn’t mind mother’s presence, but still preferred Alva. Anyway, after Father’s disappearance, Tiernan took his place. He started making changes…”

Saibh trailed off.

Cian cleared his throat and continued, “He locked away Alva and her two handmaidens in a small building far from Hewn City, with guards placed so that no one could visit her. He said it was to help her recover her health or some shit, but you know. It’s all an excuse to put her away. Then he brought Oona on a trip with him and we think he made some kind of deal with her. Anyway, she decided to stay in our second vacation home on the edge of Hewn City, which is the smallest of our houses. She only has two guards and two maids, who do her cooking, shopping, and all of that — she hasn’t been seen leaving the house. Then Tiernan started trying to make deals to arrange the marriage of Riona.”

“Father, for all his cruelty and faults, was a firm believer in waiting for the right opportunity to marry off his daughters — Cara, for example, was over 100 when she got married, but she married the steward’s nephew, who was probably the most eligible bachelor in the last 5 centuries. The steward’s bachelor also didn’t want to marry for politics, because he knows everyone in Hewn City is a viper, so father dressed Cara up in her most elegant dresses, and made sure that she crossed paths with him a few times — he ended up falling for her,” Saibh said. “He never found out about father’s schemes, of course. But anyway, that’s why I’m not married yet, even though I’m almost 50. Tiernan, though… Females are most valuable right when they come of age, at 17 years old. He wants to find the richest, most powerful family to sell her off to. Mother was opposed. She herself had married Father very young, and had respected that Father wasn’t doing the same to his daughters. When she voiced this opinion, Tiernan decided to have her put on so-called bedrest. Basically, he stationed guards in front of her room and did not allow her to leave it. Maids brought her three meals a day. She could only open the window if a guard was present inside of her room.”

“And then, when Cian dared to make one side comment about what Tiernan was doing to Mother, Tiernan threatened him,” Riona continued. 

“We had to leave. We knew it was only a matter of time until Tiernan found an excuse to kill Cian, Father’s only other male child. Tiernan was also almost about to finalize a deal with Azazel, the infamously cruel second son of a rich but not very powerful lord. If the deal was sealed before we left, Azazel would have definitely come after us and most likely either beat up, erm, _used_ and chained Riona or killed her,” Saibh explained. 

“Those of us from Hewn City are not supposed to leave. We have a bit of territory in the mountains where we can have vacations and stuff, but we are most definitely not allowed in Velaris. If they caught us, they’d take us back,” Cian added. 

Nesta frowned. “Didn’t R- the High Lord make a deal with your steward, Keir, about citizens of Hewn City sometimes being allowed in Velaris?”

Saibh rolled her eyes. “It was all a ruse. The High Lord,” she spat out the words like they burned, “made every single shopkeeper and landlord and basically _everyone_ promise not to serve Hewn City residents. Of course, some spoiled lord threw a hissy fit when he realized, and the Inner Circle,” she rolled her eyes again, “used it as an excuse to kick them all out and never allow them to return. They also took the opportunity to punish a few of the lords who dared to speak out about the High Lord going back on his deal.”

Khoniya, Brielle and Nesta exchanged glances. 

“Stay here,” Khoniya said to them. “If you move even one inch, I’ll report you to the constable.” 

Their faces were all pale.

Then she jerked her head at Brielle and Nesta. The three huddled together.

“What should we do?” Khoniya asked.

Brielle bit her lip. “Well, we can’t just leave them here…”

“Should we ask them a few more questions, and then decide?” Khoniya suggested.

“Why not?” Nesta decided. 

They turned back around. True to their word, none of them had moved. 

“Alright,” Khoniya said sharply. “Nice sob story. But why were you robbing us?”

“Well, we’ve been here in Velaris for about three weeks. At first, we wanted to try to get some sort of job, but they require identification or at least some kind of verification about your past, which we obviously can’t provide without them realizing where we’re from. We were able to stay in one small room at the cheapest inn with the money we brought with us when we escaped, but it’s impossible to keep that going. Besides, all our jewelry and stuff can’t be sold without raising questions. So Cian and I started robbing people, and Saibh started, um,” Riona rolled her lips.

“Providing, ah, entertainment for males,” Saibh said. It was clearly a euphemism. 

At Khoniya, Brielle and Nesta’s shocked looks, she quickly started, jumbling her words, “No, no. It’s not- Even though I don’t plan on going back to Hewn City, I still-” She gulped and continued more intelligibly, “Virginity is extremely important and valued where I’m from. Even though I’m not going back, I still don’t plan on giving my virginity to some stranger. I couldn’t find any whorehouses in Velaris, but, well. There are always men willing to pay for some private, semi-nude entertainment. And if they don’t want to pay, well, usually they’re too focused on the bulge in their pants to notice their wallet goes missing for a few moments,” Saibh grinned despite herself. 

“Another team meeting,” Khoniya whispered. After shooting deadly glares, the three of them turned around. 

“Okay, there’s no way we can send them back to Hewn City,” Brielle said.

Khoniya sighed. “Nesta, what do you think?”

“I think…” Nesta furrowed her eyebrows. “You have to be in a desperate position to sell your body when you value things like virginity. You can tell that she was being honest by her clothing and kohl, but also by the look in eyes when she was explaining…”

Khoniya nodded. “You’re right. And the other two — Riona is only 17! And the other one-” She turned around. “How old are you, Cian?”

“I turned 15 two months ago,” he responded. 

Khoniya shot her two friends a knowing look.

“Well, if we don’t report them to the constable, what do we do?” Brielle asked. “We can’t just let them go — no matter what they just said, they’ll get desperate for money and return to crime on the streets. And we can’t let Saibh go on like this! Plus, it’s only a matter of time before Riona turns to selling her body as well…”

“We could try to help them, but what’s stopping them from attacking us again?” Nesta countered. 

Khoniy hummed.

Brielle hesitated, glancing back at them. “We could try to give them a chance. We’re expanding the store, so we could give Saibh a job there. And of course, we’ll threaten to take them to the constable or even the High Lord if they do anything out of line.”

“How do you know they won’t try to rob your store or attack your customers?” Khoniya sighed.

Brielle shrugged. “I mean, if they do that, they won’t have a constant stream of income anymore…”

Brielle and Khoniya turned towards Nesta, asking her opinion. 

“I suppose we could give them a chance,” Nesta decided.

“Okay, we aren’t going to report you just yet,” Khoniya said. “But we also can’t just let you go.”

“You can, though,” Cian countered, only to be silenced by Khoniya’s glare (it really was fearsome).

“Saibh, I’m willing to offer you a job at my boutique,” Brielle announced. “Nesta works there as well. We’re expanding the shop, so we need help setting up and managing the new section, as well as some new ideas.”

Instead of jumping with joy as expected, Saibh hesitated. “I- Thank you for the offer, but I’m afraid I can’t take it.”

“Why not?”

“In my current, ah, employment, I receive my wages, so to speak, every day. I use it to buy us food and lodging for another day. I don’t know how your boutique works, but I do know that shops don’t usually pay their employees every day. Besides, I have no experience working in a boutique.”

Brielle bit her lip. “I could pay you once a week?” she offered. “And don’t worry about the experience. It’s my first boutique, and I don’t care about such things.”

“I didn’t have any experience either,” Nesta added. 

Saibh regretfully shook her head. “I really, really appreciate it. But even if I could afford the food, the place where we’re staying… Let’s just say the female at the Inn dislikes that we only book one, tiny, cheap room even though there’s three of us. She’s always looking for an excuse to make us pay more or kick us out. I can’t-”

“What if,” Khoniya blurted out suddenly, “You stayed at my house?”

Riona and Cian’s faces brightened excitedly, but Saibh replied, “We couldn’t impose.”

Khoniya studied the female. “I need to speak with my mate before I make any decisions, but I am willing to let you stay at my house, provided you agree to follow my rules.”

They flinched. 

“No,” Saibh began, only for Riona to cut her off.

“Come on, Saibh, why not? This is our only chance-”

“Ri, first of all, we don’t even know-”

“Please, Saibh?” Cian cut in. “We can’t continue like this.”

Khoniya closed her eyes. A few expressions rippled over her face and it took Nesta a moment to understand that Khoniya was mentally communicating with her mate. 

“Okay,” Khoniya declared. “You can stay at my house. The rules are: don’t steal from us, don’t run away without telling us unless it’s an emergency, and don’t attack us or harm us in any way. I’ll also require you guys to help out in some way — with cooking or cleaning or shopping or something. Does that sound reasonable?”

Cian and Riona nodded eagerly, then turned to their elder sister with pleading eyes. 

Saibh sighed, then slowly nodded. 

* * *

“Where’d you get that scratch?” Cassian asked innocently as they walked down the baby clothes aisle (seriously, why were there so many options? Who wanted to dress their baby in fancy dresses or — Mother forbid — a costume of some strange animal? Did they not realize the baby would just spit up and ruin the ridiculously overpriced article of clothing?). 

“What?”

“The one on your neck?” Cassian said.

Nesta hesitated for a few seconds before beginning her tale. “I was walking to a restaurant after work, with my friends Brielle and Khoniya, when suddenly we were attacked…”

She explained the attack and how they had found off the captors. 

“What did you do with them afterwards?” Cassian’s voice held a dangerous quality she seldom heard, especially after the end of the war. 

She hesitated to explain, remembering that, despite everything, Cassian was a member of the Inner Circle. “Well, we were going to bring them to the constable, but they explained that they were not supposed to be in Velaris. Actually, first, their elder sister showed up. Basically, they escaped from their home and had nowhere else to go, and without the proper documentation, they can’t work in Velaris, so their sister worked _entertaining_ males while the two of them stole from people. We agreed that we couldn’t just let them go and continue this, but we also couldn’t force them to go home under their circumstances, so my friend took them in. And Brielle decided to let the elder sister work with us.”

“Isn’t that dangerous?”

“Well, first off, the elder sister never really attacked us. They seemed very genuine, and it wouldn’t be advantageous for them to attack us, since we’d just report them,” Nesta answered. 

Cassian went silent.

For the remainder of the shopping trip, they spoke about light, unimportant topics — the weather, books, the best cafés, etc. 

It was only when they returned to Nesta’s house and had settled on the sofa, each with a cup of black tea in hand, that Cassian broached the topic once more.

“Were you hurt? Is the baby-”

“I’m fine, Cassian. And they never touched my stomach or threatened me in any way besides the knife to my throat, which barely scratched me, so I’m sure the baby’s fine,” Nesta answered. It felt strange to reassure Cassian, but in some way it also felt nice to for once not be the source of his frustration, anger and disappointment. 

“Okay.” He gulped and nodded. After a couple seconds, he added, “It’s nice of your friend to agree to take them in.” 

“Yeah,” Nesta agreed. “I think she feels a bit connected to them, since they ran away from their family, and Khoniya also needed to leave her family to come here to be with her mate.”

Cassian’s eyes were downcast as he said, “Taking in kids, even if they aren’t that young… It could really make a difference in their lives, you know?” 

Nesta was suddenly reminded that Cassian was an orphaned, bastard-born male.

“It’s great that they have each other, but if they were raised in a harsh environment, every kind word or action can mean so much.” His voice had not gone soft, but his eyes had a far away look. “Taking them in, showing them affection, even just giving them a space where they feel _safe_ can completely change their lives.” 

He blinked and his eyes returned to normal. “Anyway, if they need any help or anything, let me know.”

While his left hand was occupied holding his tea cup, his right hand rested on the sofa, palm-up. As she took a sip of tea, eyes firmly on her cup, Nesta gave into the urge to move her left hand a few inches and place it on top of his palm.

His palm was rough and calloused, but also surprisingly soft. 

Cassian sat utterly still, shocked.

 _Shit_. _Nesta, you’re such an idiot. Why would you invade his personal boundaries like that?_ Nesta berated herself. _He didn’t ask for comfort. He doesn’t want it from YOU anyway. He knows you’re a bitch who doesn’t deserve anything, least of all affection. Why would he want this from you?_

She started to retract her hand, schooling her expression so as to not betray her embarrassment, but at that moment, Cassian curled his fingers and grasped her hand. 

Her hand was far too sweaty despite the lack of heat, and her nails were short and—

Her thoughts dissolved as her eyes met his. 

His warm eyes reminded her of caramel that she’d eaten a few times as a child, when her father had returned from a voyage. She remembered the sweet taste that slowly filled her mouth… and just like that, she was now craving caramel. 

They sat in comfortable silence.

Then Nesta dared to ask, “You were raised in the Illyrian mountains?”

Cassian let out a breath and nodded. “Yeah. I grew up in the war-camps. My mom was a laundress in one of the camps, but as soon as I would walk, I was sent to a different camp. I used to have to fight other kids — their food or clothes would be the prize for winning. Kids who were older than me usually agreed, because they wanted to show off their strength and put me in my place, but I beat them a lot of the time. They hated me, really. No one wanted to associate with a bastard-born nobody with a knack for violence and getting into trouble…”

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed it!  
> I know this chapter was a bit dialogue & OC-heavy (sorry!). I promise not to introduce any more OCs.  
> I had a really tough week and all your comments helped me get through it, so thank you guys. Ily.
> 
> Please leave a comment!  
> (Come talk to me on Tumblr @sayosdreams)


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all your comments (I do read them all and they help me get the motivation to write).  
> Shoutout to my beta reader for this chapter, @nayanyart on instagram (go check out their amazing art!)

“Hell will freeze over before I let Riona cook in my kitchen again,” Khoniya declared. She had dark circles, but her eyes sparkled. “Did you know it was possible to burn a pan to the point where the metal gets deformed? I wasn’t even surprised that she managed to set the kitchen towels on fire.”

Brielle grimaced. “I take it she’s never cooked before?”

Khoniya sighed. “I have no idea how those kids were going to try to live on the streets, honestly. I mean, the other day, I gave them a bowl of blackberries as part of their breakfast, and Cian asked me why the caviar tasted strange.” 

Nesta chuckled. “I thought you said they were learning?”

“Yeah, they are,” Khoniya admitted, stabbing another piece of Brielle’s home-made Mille-feuille with her fork. “They didn’t know anything about cleaning, once I told them how, they were eager to help. Thanks to Cian, lots of old rooms have been dusted. Riona’s seems to like gardening — to be quite honest, I don’t know when the last time was that our yard had so few weeds.”

“Saibh’s been doing well,” Nesta added. “She helped us set up the new section of the store and gave us a few suggestions about it as well.”

“What are you guys planning on doing with the new space?” Khoniya leaned forward.

Brielle and Nesta exchanged a glance. “We’re going to make it sort of bookstore-like, although we’ll also have stationary and notebooks and maybe a few other trinkets in the section,” Brielle said. “We want to distinguish ourselves by carrying books from all over Prythian, including human-authored books. But we were also thinking of maybe serving some drinks there-”

“Ooh, like a bar?” Khoniya quipped.

“No, definitely not like a bar,” Brielle responded in a serious tone.

“I don’t know,” Nesta interjected lightly, “a bar might be fun.”

“Yeah, because every bookworm is a secret alcoholic,” Brielle shook her head exasperatedly.

“I was,” Nesta said, her tone still joking but aware that she was revealing a very personal fact. Then she added, “Although actually, Khoniya, we were thinking of more like tea, smoothie or coffee.”

“Can you guys stock Hot Chocolate?” Khoniya asked. Despite being the oldest, she seemed very much like a child at that moment. “Ooh, and Butterbeer?”

“Didn’t I just say no alcohol?” Brielle retorted, raising an eyebrow.

“No, butterbeer isn’t alcoholic!” Khoniya cried. “It’s this amazing drink that was in this book Nesta lent me — see, Brielle, it’s inherently connected to books — and anyway, it tastes like butterscotch but not as sweet and it’s supposed to be delicious!”

“Please Brielle,” Nesta added, batting her eyelashes like a teenage debutante. 

Brielle rolled her eyes once again, but being Brielle, she couldn’t help but want to agree with whatever her friends were passionately asking for. “Fine, I’ll see what we can do.”

Khoniya let out a cheer, and Nesta grinned. 

* * *

“It’s really big,” Nesta said, biting her lip.

“I know,” Cassian grinned, before a concerned look took residence on his face. “What do you think?”

Nesta sighed. Her feet and back ached. She and Cassian were trying to choose a house. They agreed that they wanted it to be close to Nesta’s current residence and had identified a surprisingly large amount of options (she had no idea why so many houses were on sale in Velaris — although actually, it was probably because Cassian had decided not to have a price limit). 

Nesta had therefore been optimistic. Unfortunately, the first place they visited did not satisfy their demands of 3 bedrooms despite what the owner said (who counts a large cupboard as a bedroom for a baby?) and the second place had strange stains all over the carpet (although the owner said it was just mud, it distinctly resembled dried blood). The third place had been so dark and damp that it immediately gave both Nesta and Cassian chills. The fifth place had seemed quite nice (well, at least it didn’t seem horrible) until a single bark resounded from what seemed like the next door neighbor’s house, followed by a cacophony of barks, growls, chirps, grunts and roars. 

The house they were currently in (Nesta had lost count after 11) seemed okay - other than the fact that it was huge. Definitely not Nesta’s style, but at this point she was too tired to protest over something so small. 

“And here, you can put a dining table,” the owner was explaining. “Over here is the child’s room — large enough for two, in case you want to have some more,” she grinned and Nesta looked away, suppressing the urge to roll her eyes. 

Cassian uncharacteristically did not take the opportunity to tease Nesta, and instead frowned. “This is so far away from the two adult bedrooms you showed us earlier…”

“Well of course,” the owner laughed. “Surely you don’t want to be woken up by the baby’s cries? The wet nurse can take care of that — see that’s why this little door leads to another small room.”

Nesta sighed and glanced around. “What about that door? Is that another bedroom?”

“We could use that to sleep near the baby,” Cassian mused. 

“Oh no,” the owner said quickly. “That leads to another corridor.”

“Well, can we see it?”

“Why?” the owner frowned, looking puzzled. 

Cassian and Nesta exchanged a look. “Before we buy the house, we’d like to know what’s in it,” Cassian explained awkwardly. 

“Oh, but that section won’t affect you— it’s not for sale,” the owner countered.

“What do you mean? I thought you said this place was for sale?” Nesta argued. She did not want to have spent all this time on a place that wasn’t even available.

“The main parts of the house are for sale, but that hallway is a separate wing. Someone else already bought it and is living there,” the owner muttered. Then quickly added, “But they have their own separate front door and kitchen, so there is no need to worry; you’ll just be like neighbors!”

But Nesta and Cassian were worried. “Can that door be locked or sealed?” 

“Well, no, but there’s no need… besides, if you truly liked, you could build another door that could lock?” 

The whole point was to have a house ASAP. 

Still, Nesta was so tired. She didn’t want to visit another house. 

“Maybe-” she began, only to be cut off by loud music blaring from behind the door. The music was so obscene that they all cringed. 

Cassian and Nesta shared a quick look, thanked the owner, and then fled as fast as they could.

Once outside, they laughed. 

“Gods, can you believe she actually tried to hide the fact that someone else was already living in that house?” 

“At least it was better than that place where they tried to call their flooded basement a pool.”

After their laughter died down, Cassian checked the list. “Okay, we have one or two houses left, but if you’re too tired…”

It was a mistake for anyone to tell Nesta what she was or wasn’t; in doing so, her stubborn nature obliged her to prove them wrong. Logic warred with her stubbornness, and she decided, “I can do one more house.”

Cassian shot her a doubtful glance but dutifully picked her up and flew them to the next location. 

They landed in front of a light blue house.

The owner stepped out of the house, and greeted them. He was a short male with chestnut-colored hair. 

The house itself was small, but in a cozy way instead of a claustrophobic way. Besides, everything was still large enough for Cassian to walk around with his wings spread out, so it was functional.

It had 3 bedrooms, each with their own bathroom, as well as a kitchen-dining area, a living room, a few closets, a small room with a big sink and some shelves (no doubt for laundry and cleaning supplies), one other room (the owner informed them that they could use it as anything — formal living room, exercise room, office, reading room, etc.) and an attic that was surprisingly nice. It also had a backyard and a patio. The house was probably about triple the size of Nesta’s current house. It had a few large windows (including a bay window that Nesta was sure to claim as a reading nook) that brightened the house. The owner informed them that the house had been built at a slight elevation to prevent flooding. 

There was really no decision. Nesta and Cassian looked at each other once, confirming that they felt the same way about the charming place, and then asked to sign the form to buy the house. 

The owner indicated the price (it was a little high, but far lower than many of the houses they’d visited) and then explained that since all the furniture had already been cleared out, they could start moving their stuff in next week at the earliest. 

“I’ll take the crib we ordered to the house next week,” Cassian suggested once they were back at Nesta’s house, finally resting on the sofa.

Cassian was stretched out comfortably, one arm on the arm rest, the other slung over the back of the sofa, but Nesta couldn’t seem to find a comfortable position. Her back ached, and her neck seemed to have a crick in it that she couldn’t get rid of, despite rolling her neck multiple times in both directions. 

“Y’alright, sweetheart?”

“I’m fine.” Her automatic reply was proven false by a sudden pain in her lower back that caused her to wince. 

Cassian stared at her with worried eyes. “Does your stomach hurt? Do you need to take some kind of medicine? Well, actually, I’m not sure if that’s safe- Should we ask the healer? Should we go to the healer? Shit, is it the baby? What if this is related to when you were attacked—”

“Cassian,” she cut short his ~~adorable~~ ramble, “It’s fine, I’m fine.” 

When she saw that her words had not reassured him in the slightest, she added, “My stomach doesn’t hurt at all, okay? It’s just that my back — and my neck — are slightly stiff.”

Cassian’s face relaxed but then he stood up abruptly.

Nesta stared up at him, her confusion invisible on her face.

“C’mon,” Cassian said, jerking his head and then patting the sofa as some sort of signal.

Nesta merely blinked at him.

Cassian faltered slightly. “Unless you prefer that I don’t- maybe you could ask your friends…”

“What?” Nesta finally deigned to ask. 

“A massage, sweetheart. I was going to give you a massage, unless you’d rather not have one.”

Nesta let surprise flit across her visage before asking, “How- What should I-?” She’d never received a massage before, though she knew what they were thanks to her books.

“Ah, well, normally you’d lay down on your front,” Cassian began, and Nesta lifted an eyebrow, glancing at her baby bump. “But in the current circumstances, that’s probably not the best idea,” he agreed. “If you really want to lay down, you can lay on your side, but it’d be best if you just sit up over here,” he pointed. Nesta sat where he’d indicated. 

Cassian placed his ~~large~~ hands on her shoulders and squeezed once, gently. “Relax, sweetheart,” he breathed into her ear, which made her stiffen more, causing him to chuckle slightly. However, as his hand worked on her neck, shoulder and back, her body quickly relaxed. 

Gods, why hadn’t she thought of getting a massage before? His hands were like magic, loosening the knots in her back (most of which she hadn’t even known existed), stretching out her neck, relieving tension from her shoulders… 

Despite not being even mildly sexual, the massage was more pleasurable than all the meaningless drunk sex she’d had with strangers. Her drunk sex with Cassian did not fall into that category, as far as she could remember — though she couldn’t remember everything as the alcohol had blurred her memory. 

She let out a sigh as Cassian eased a particularly tense spot in her shoulder blade. Gods, that man— no, _male_ —’s hands were talented. She decided not to inform him of this, knowing he’d make it an innuendo. 

Wanting to fill the silence, Nesta asked, “What do you like to do in your free time?” It wasn’t what she’d planned to ask, but, well, it couldn’t hurt to know more about her baby’s father. 

“I usually exercise, train, fight-”

Nesta snorted. “That’s for your job. I mean for fun or for you.”

“It’s not just for my job,” Cassian protested weakly.

“Also for your admirers?” she smirked.

“Jealous, sweetheart?”

Nesta let out an obnoxious, single huff. “No. And don’t think I’ve forgotten about the question I asked — why are you avoiding it? Does Rhysand give you no free time?”

“I wasn’t avoiding anything, Nesta. I like to fly, cook, b-”

“Cook?” she interrupted, surprised. “You can cook?”

“Of course! I’m well over 500 and you do need to eat in order to live,” Cassian smirked. “I am quite adept at cooking and honestly really enjoy it. Although that definitely wasn’t the case at first. Once, I tried to bake a cake for Rhysand’s mom, and I ended up setting fire to the curtains.”

Nesta laughed softly. Then, recalling Khoniya’s complaints the other day, she recounted what had happened when Riona had tried her hand in the kitchen. 

Cassian responded with his own tale of how he’d once burnt down a building by accident — thankfully it had been empty at the time — and then transitioned to how he’d destroy one little building in the Summer Court and was now hated there — unfairly, in his opinion.

His hands continued their brilliant work on her back. As he rolled his knuckles in circles in a particularly sensitive area on her lower back, she let out a soft moan. He continued talking but his hands remained on that portion of her body, pressing his fingers into her back. Then, he pressed the perfect spot with just the right amount of pressure — he was _so_ good at this — and she needed to tell him not to move his fingers — “Mmm, right there,” she half-sighed, half-moaned. 

Cassian froze. 

Worried something had happened, she began to turn around. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” he replied gruffly, pressing his thumb once more against the sensitive section of her lower back. 

Despite the pleasure, she frowned lightly. Clearly something was wrong that had made him pause. His voice, too, had been a little strange. Had she done something? Or-

Cassian cleared his throat, twice, and then resumed his story, the moment forgotten. 

* * *

Nesta arrived at work on Monday morning in a good mood. She was excited to start planning the new space they had. Nesta was actually getting along very well with Saibh, who seemed to appreciate her honesty and had even informed her that her ‘sharp wit’ was ‘delightful’. 

As she entered the boutique, she noticed Saibh and Brielle at the back of the boutique, speaking in low tones. Hearing Nesta’s footsteps, Brielle turned her head. “Oh, hey, Nesta.” Was that annoyance in Brielle’s voice? No— it must have been Nesta’s imagination. For her part, Saibh smiled kindly and greeted her. “Hello Nesta. You look radiant. Did you have a good weekend?” 

“Yes, I did, thank you. Ca- My baby’s father and I chose a house we want to buy.”

“Oh, that’s wonderful!”

“Maybe once we’re settled in, I could invite you all,” Nesta offered. 

“Oh, that’d be amazing!” Brielle’s joyful babble had returned. “Do you need any help setting up? I heard that you shouldn’t strain yourself too much while you’re pregnant. Do you guys want anything from the boutique? I could give it to you for- well, maybe not for free but at a very low price! Like, 25% of the regular price! Is your new house far away? Will you need trans-”

“Brielle,” Nesta cut in, firmly but not unkindly. “Thanks for the offer, but we’re fine. The new house is about the same distance from here as my old place, just in a different direction.”

“Oh ok! Is the new place much larger?”

“It is. It’ll be good for the baby to have her own bedroom. We do need to move our stuff and figure out exactly how to use all the new space. Speaking of new space,” Nesta added with a pointed glance. “You mentioned you had some ideas for the new section of the boutique?”

“Yes!” Brielle’s face lit up (not that it had been dark in any way). “So, I know we already agreed it would be a bookshop with some other trinkets, and that we’ll sell some drinks, but we didn’t decide exactly which ones. I made a list of easy drinks to make that are a little nice so that it feels a bit special and brightens their day. But we also don’t want the drinks to be the main focus, because then we’d have to hire more people to keep up with orders, and make more space for customers to drink and that’s just so much hassle I don’t really want at the moment. But I also feel like we should advertise the new book section in some way to make sure people know we’re now also a bookstore.”

“What if we had some sort of event at the boutique?” Saibh suggested. “That way, we could unofficially invite and attract lots of people.”

“What would we do? A book reading?” Nesta asked. “A book club?”

“Hmm, it could be a good idea, although that would create a very small group of regular attendees, right?” Brielle pondered. “I mean, we could have different events to attract different audiences…”

“Actually, I remember Khoniya mentioning the other day that Lesser Fae, at least the ones that don’t work for the High Lord,” Saibh spat out the title like a curse word, “are treated like second-rate citizens. And fae from foreign backgrounds as well, though I hear that Winter Court fae are quite loved.”

“We could use our bookstore as a community gathering space for Lesser fae and maybe some foreign fae or other fae who aren’t treated equally, so that they can meet each other,” Nesta proposed. “They could help support each other and we could make it a safe space for them to share their issues or ask for help in any way, whether it is learning how to read or cook, wanting to find a job, needing a place to stay, or just getting some advice.”

“And they could become friends with each other!” Brielle exclaimed. “They could find their place here in Velaris and not have to feel lonely anymore. And they’d be safer together. They wouldn’t need to worry about being attacked.” Then, glaring playfully at Saibh, she added, “Or, you know, robbed.”

Saibh rolled her eyes. “Oh my gods, when will you get over that? They already apologized and your scar already healed.”

“No it didn’t! See!” Brielle pushed her hair behind her shoulders and tilted her head back, showing off her neck. Nesta couldn’t see even a scratch remaining. 

Saibh only shook her head with mock exasperation and covered her face with her hands. “It’s completely gone, Brielle.”

“Nobody believes me,” Brielle pretended to pout.

Saibh pressed her lips together, trying to hold in a smile (and quite possibly laughter).

Nesta opened her mouth to give a lighthearted joking reply; instead, she inhaled sharply.

She’d felt a twitch in her lower abdomen, like a light flick or a flutter. 

Their eyes and focus were on her as she clutched her stomach.

“What is it? Are you okay?” Brielle asked, panic seeping into her tone.

“Do you need to see a healer?” Saibh added. Her voice was lower and calmer, as if she did not want to cause Nesta to worry more, but her concern was still evident. 

“I’m okay,” Nesta said after a moment. She looked up from her stomach and looked at them, her eyes glistening and her lips curved upwards. “I think I just felt my baby kick.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave a comment!
> 
> Ok life update: I spent my whole summer wasting time so now I have 2 weeks to complete a 4000 word history research paper, read and annotate a book, do a huge biology project, not to mention study for the SATs, prepping for my permit test, doing my college applications... basically I have so much to do so I'll probably end up procrastination and writing more fanfic welp. (UPDATE: I have decided to take a short hiatus from this fic just for my own sanity. Please don’t expect new chapters for a while. I’m sorry)
> 
> Oh also, someone pointed this out to me and I realize I never explicitly said this so: yes, I do often start scenes with sentences that could be interpreted as innuendos, just to entertain myself and anyone else who has a dirty mind ;)
> 
> <3 love you guys!  
> Come talk to me on my fandom insta (@fangirl.03.sk) or on my Tumblr (@sayosdreams) !


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING: Panic attack. (Also includes swearing)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! Sorry for the hiatus. Um, I know I've mentioned this before, but I'm in my final year in high school and I'm fairly busy with college apps, etc.  
> During the summer, I tried to unload one every week/week and a half. That won't be possible anymore. I will still be uploading once or twice a month, though!!  
> Shoutout to Kayleigh for beta-reading!  
> Thanks for sticking around and reading :)  
> Hope you enjoy!

“Thank you all for coming! The next meeting is at the same time next week,” Khoniya called as the small crowd exited the bookshop section of Brielle’s Boutique. 

Saibh and Riona made their way over to them. 

“That was so awesome!” Riona announced, smiling at Khoniya.

Nesta nodded. “Yeah, I feel like it went really well. Kudos to you guys.” 

Saibh and Khoniya had worked together to plan the whole thing perfectly. They put discrete flyers in places frequented by the citizens of Velaris of different origins and spread the message by word-of-mouth. They made sure there was a flyer in sight for their Lesser Fae customers, which they hid with their elbow when Night Court High Fae came along. They made sure the right people overheard it and that the rest of the Night Court didn’t even have an inkling. 

They had no idea how many fae to expect. The first session had only 8 attendees, plus Brielle, Nesta, Saibh, Khoniya, Riona and Cian. The first meeting had gone very well, with Saibh and Khoniya’s planned activities breaking the ice and allowing the different fae to open up about their background or struggles they’d faced or any experience they’d had in Velaris. Most of them said they did not have any friends in Velaris and hadn’t found their place here, or that they felt they had to hide their differences in order to fit in with the Velaris citizens. Then, Khoniya had explained that that was why they had decided to form this club of sorts — they would allow people to have a space to be themselves and make friends without having to be afraid of judgement, rejection or mocking. 

Clearly, they’d enjoyed it and had spread the word to those they considered worthy. Today’s meeting, which was only the second session, had brought in 23 fae besides the six of them. 

There had been fae of many different origins. Some from Summer, others from Day or Dawn. There had been a female Urisk, a male wraith, as well as a haIf-Illyrian half-Peregryn female who had run away from home. There had even been a fae who had been born to a fae mother and a human father before the construction of the wall, and had chosen to remain on the fae side after she’d settled. For the sake of their safety, Saibh, Riona and Cian had decided not to disclose their origins and instead speak about their experiences. Others also preferred not to talk about their background and instead shared why they had come to Velaris or what they had faced here.

It had been somewhat of an emotional experience, with many members crying as they recounted their stories for the first time in a room full of fae eager to listen despite the fact that their voices were so often the ones that were silenced. Stories were shared but experiences were not compared — no one was more or less. They had all faced suffering in one way or another. 

Now, as they exited the boutique, Nesta could see some of them walking together despite the fact that they had arrived alone. Perhaps the first seeds of friendship were beginning to sprout. 

Riona let out a cough that sounded more like a laugh. Nesta’s eyes followed her gaze — and found Cian talking to a young female with webbed fingers and multicolored hair. They were both laughing and then Cian leaned in and whispered something that made the female blush. 

Nesta turned to Brielle to make a quip about young love, but found her deep in conversation with Saibh. Instead, she turned to Riona, who was now grinning fully at her brother. 

When she noticed that Nesta was watching her, Riona explained, “Cian totally likes her.”

Nesta smiled. “I can tell.” 

Riona’s grin faded slightly. “I’m so glad we decided to come to Velaris. All these fae… In Hewn City, there are no fae from anywhere else. It’s just the same families trapped in an endless battle for power and money. Also, Lesser fae are treated very badly— so much worse than here in Velaris. Lesser fae are only allowed to be maids or other low positions and are basically treated like beasts. They aren’t allowed to talk to High Fae unless they’re explicitly told to do so.” Her gaze softened. “Cian never could have talked to her. Father would have punished him for even looking at her twice. Tienan would’ve considered it a suitable reason to have my brother killed or worse. I’m glad they could meet even if they don’t even become friends, it’s still nice for him to be able to get to know different types of fae.”

“Riona, how are you this wise?”

“Oh, shut up,” Riona rolled her eyes jokingly. “I know you’re only a couple years older than me. Don’t pretend to be so old.”

“But then who would I boss around?”

Riona shrugged. “I don’t know. Your baby?”

Nesta smiled. After a moment, the mirth faded. 

“Riona,” Nesta said; “You really are a good sister. A much better one than me.”

Riona noted the serious undertone in Nesta’s voice. “Nesta, I’m sure you’re a great sister. At any rate, I’d be happy to have a sister like you.”

“I wasn’t always like this. I mean, I’m usually cold and-”

“Do you actually think I was perfect? I used to steal Saibh’s favorite ribbons. I didn’t even like ribbons, I just took them because  _ she _ liked them. I also used to fight with Cian a lot. If anyone saw us, I’d start crying and saying that he hit me or pulled my hair or something, when it was actually me who usually started the fights.” Riona had a small, mischievous grin on her face, but her eyes were serious. “Besides, in case you forgot, I ran away from home.”

“And robbed people,” Nesta supplied. 

Riona rolled her eyes. “Yeah, whatever. Just shut up and watch Cian with me, would you?”

“What are you guys talking about?” Cian’s voice called. Somehow he was standing right next to them. 

“Nothing,” Nesta and Riona intoned at the same time. Cian only raised an eyebrow.

Riona wrapped an arm around her brother and teased, “So, what’s her name?”

“Her n- I mean, who?”

“That female you were just flirting with.”

“I wasn’t flirting! Iridiana and I were just talking!”

“Iridiana, huh? Please tell me I’m invited to the wedding.”

“Oh my god, Ri, shut up!”

* * *

“So, the bookshop opened?”

“Yes, we started getting a lot of customers now,” Nesta explained. “We always carried a few books, but it takes a while for people to notice and remember that we also have a bookstore, so that they seek us out when they’re in need of books.”

Cassian nodded. “Have you been reading more books now that you work in a bookshop?”

“No. The shop’s been busy, with us trying to figure out how to manage both minishops and getting an increasing amount of customers, and I’ve been spending my free time trying to get ready for the baby or learning more about how to manage a bookstore.”

Nesta’s eyes scanned his body. They had just finished an eventful sunday that consisted of buying baby items and furniture for their new house.

It was already dark outside, but they were both tired, so they sat in Nesta’s house, talking and eating a dinner they’d bought at a store on the way back.

Nesta noticed the bags under Cassian’s eyes and realized that he was far more tired than he let on. “Has your work been busy lately?” she asked. 

“The Rite is starting soon. I’ve been setting up, training some of the recruits, and pushing for this group of females to be allowed to participate as well,” he sighed, running a hand through his hair. 

“Have females never participated in the Rite before?”

“A few have, but they were always exceptions — the ones whose fathers had a lot of power and wanted their daughters to participate, or the ones who were specifically designated for some reason. There has never been a whole group of females, not like this. It’s still not that many, barely a quarter of the number of males participating, but it needs to start somewhere. I’m hoping it’ll stick and that we can slowly increase the number.”

Nesta furrowed her brow. “The Rite is undertaken in order for them to become true warriors, right?”

Cassian nodded. 

Nesta cocked her head. “Is that the only path for Illyrians? To become warriors?”

Cassian let out another sigh. “Traditionally, warriors are the most respected class of Illyrians. Everyone strives to become a warrior and it is a great honor. Since the females aren’t allowed to become warriors, they run shops or do the chores around the camps — making food, doing the laundry, cleaning, making clothes, etc. Some of the weaker males who don’t participate in the Rite also run shops, or make weapons. Some even run a trading post.”

“So, no one chooses not to be a warrior?” There was a slight edge to her voice.

“It’s rare. I mean, many females think their place is at home, so they choose not to even try, but for males… Actually, there are some males who choose to go into the craft of making Siphons. It’s a very complicated art since each Siphon needs to match the welder. I don’t know all the details. But besides that, most Illyrians want to become warriors as far as I know.”

Nesta pursed her lips, clearly hesitant about asking another question. 

A gust of cold air shook the glass in the window. The inside of the house was also cold, despite all the windows being shut tight. 

Cassian looked at Nesta, silently telling her to say whatever she wanted.

“So does that mean that our daughter will have to become a warrior?”

Cassian looked startled. “No, not necessarily.” He frowned lightly. “Would you not want her to be a warrior?”

“I would obviously prefer if she chose a less dangerous profession, although I’d support her if she wanted to become one,” Nesta replied strongly. “What I don’t want is for her to be raised to be a warrior.”

“She’ll have lots of restless energy and mostly killing power that she’ll inherit from me. She needs to train to release that,” Cassian countered.

“Of course she can train,” Nesta answered. “But I don’t want her to be raised in the war camps. I want her to be allowed to become whatever she wants.”

“Of course,” Cassian said. “Of course I want that too. I want her to be able to follow her dreams.”

They looked at each other and an unspoken understanding passed through them. Neither of them had been able to become what they wanted — Cassian had never even had the opportunity to dream of being anything other than a warrior and Nesta, despite having dreamed, was never in a position to actually achieve said dream. Now, it was too late. Nesta could never become a free woman who sailed the seas and traded with anywhere and everywhere — first off, because she now had to care for a child, and secondly because she was no longer human and couldn’t roam around as she wished. She had become the sister of the High Lady. Her presence had a political impact. Not to mention that fae were rarely accepted in the human territories she’d longed to explore. Cassian could never resign from his post of Illyrian General. It was far too late to find another dream. It was not as though he didn’t love his job or appreciate his position — it was simply that the time to become anything else had passed.

They would not let that happen to their daughter.

Of course the moment had to end as Nesta’s bladder decided that it had to relieve itself immediately, causing Nesta to rush out of the room with a jumbled excuse on her lips.

When Nesta returned, Cassian was nowhere to be seen. She glanced around the room and her eyes landed not on his figure but on the fireplace which had somehow lit itself. 

_ No. No no no. Fuck. No.  _

Nesta took a deep breath. It was just a fire; it would be okay. She would get a bucket. Yes, a bucket of water. And put out the fire. Right.

Nesta turned and took one step towards the faucet when the fire sizzled and crackled. 

Crackled like her father’s neck when the king had snapped it. The king, who Elaine had stabbed, who Nesta had killed, whose blood had coated her hands and clothing. The king, who had brought an army and killed so many, too many fae. Their bodies — their carcaces — had littered the ground, laid out like a rug of blood and gore and death. 

A shudder rippled through her frozen body and somehow, before her knees gave out, she sat down on the floor, wrapping her arms around her legs. She shut her eyes and put her head on her knees, begging the visions to stop but how could they stop?

This wasn’t some nightmare or irritational paranoid fear. It was reality. The clang of metal, the screams, the grunts. The hands that grabbed her hair, gagged her mouth and then had been far too through when ‘searching’ her body for weapons. The arm that had pushed her down, deeper, under the waters of the Cauldron until the world was flipped and she died. They were all real. She could feel it all now. The water entering her throat, feeling like fire and ice — a cold that burned and scorched every cell in her body, setting it ablaze, rending it to dust. The cracks as her father’s neck snapped and the light died in his eyes. Again. And Again. The screams and the tears Elaine gave as they dragged her, as they killed her, as they threw her on the floor, her soaked clothing revealing her body. The cries Cassian had made as his powerful obsidian wings were reduced to tattered. The pain in Feyre’s eyes as Tamlin held her. That feeling of  _ wrongness _ in her gut, more than the new everlasting foreign feeling of her new body, more than the disgust she felt when looking in the mirror — the wrongness that told her that the Cauldron was going to be used. The feeling crawled up her lungs and threatened to spill from her mouth. It clogged her throat, impeding her breathing — oh Mother, she was going to die. She couldn’t breathe, she couldn’t breathe, she couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t even scream for help. She was drowning again, there was no more air in her lungs. Distantly, she could hear a voice crying her name — Feyre or Elain or Cassian, each being tortured in their own way. There was no point in trying to survive, it wasn’t like her life was worth anything, but she couldn’t let them win. 

“Nesta! Nesta!”

The voices were crying for her and she was fighting, she  _ was _ . But. She had been fighting for far too long. For her whole life and perhaps even in a life before that, just fighting for survival and for what? She was so, so tired of it all. She knew no way to exist without fighting— you couldn’t ask a fire not to burn— but she was tired of it all. Maybe it wouldn’t be the worst thing to just give in. Give up. Let go. Was there some kind of peace for those who moved on from this world of pain and suffering? Would her mother be waiting for her on the other side?

“Nesta!”

The voices continued to cry out but they were more of an annoyance now.

But then Nesta felt a hand on her shoulder — somehow her senses had gone mercifully numb up until that point but now she felt the hand grabbing her. It could be none other than the hand that had pushed her into the water. 

“No, no, no, get off me!!” she screamed but she couldn’t hear herself since she was in the water.

But how come she could still hear the voices crying her name?

“Nesta, look at me!” 

She tried to look towards the voice but the world was blurred and shifting now, time and space folding over on itself as her nightmares wove a tapestry of pain before her eyes. 

“Come on, Nesta. Look at me, sweetheart.”

Was that Cassian? Nesta blinked a few times and indeed found Cassian in front of her. 

“But- How?”

Cassian was on the floor, his wings in tatters, blood sweeping from his wounds and practically dead-

“Hey, hey, hey, Nesta, I’m alright, okay?” 

She stared at him, uncomprehending. 

“I need you to take a deep breath with me.” Cassian’s voice was firm but gentle. Why was he being so quiet? Had someone died? Feyre- Elain-

Cassian inhaled loudly and Nesta followed suit, breathing in, almost entranced.

Cassian held her gaze as he exhaled. She copied him. 

They repeated the action again, and again, and again, until the horrors faded and Nesta found herself sitting on the floor of her apartment. As she returned to herself, her embarrassment took hold of her and she looked away from Cassian’s concerned eyes. 

He did not ask her if she was alright, which she appreciated.

Instead he brought her a cup of water, which she drank after only minimal hesitation. After she finished, she stared at a spot on the floor. She realized that she was still trembling slightly and tried to will herself to be still. 

“Are you cold?” His voice was as soft as her mother’s favorite fur coat.

Nesta didn’t respond. She was actually cold, but the tremors were simply her frayed nerves, and she didn’t have the energy to put all of that into words at the moment. 

“I can bring you to the sofa if you like,” he offered. “Or I can try to add some more wood to the fire, it might warm the room a bit more—”

“No,” Nesta rasped loudly. She met his eyes. Lowering her voice, she announced, “No fire.”

Understanding filled Cassian’s eyes. “Do you want me to put the fire out?”

She desperately wanted to nod, but she had enough clarity to answer, “You’ll be cold.”

Cassian’s face brightened slightly and his eyes warmed into pools of caramel. His lips quirked infinitesimally. Nesta’s eyes followed his figure as he put out the fire, grabbed a pile of blankets, and returned. He wrapped two around her, one around his shoulders, and sat down on the floor in front of her, putting the rest of the blankets between them.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Nesta rolled her lips in consideration. She didn’t particularly  _ want _ to talk about it, but she also didn’t  _ not _ want to talk about it and she probably  _ should _ talk about it… She just had no idea how to talk about it; she’d never done so before. 

She gave a single nod. 

“Does that happen often?” Cassian asked quietly after she had been quiet for a moment. 

Nesta shook her head but then realized that perhaps in order to talk, she should actually  _ talk _ and not just shake her head. “No. Just sometimes, around fires.” She tilted her head. “And bathtubs.”

His face flickered. “How do you usually calm down?”

She frowned. “I just- I try to distance myself from the bath or the fire if I can. Otherwise I just let it- play out I guess.”

Cassian looked like he wanted to ask if she did it alone, but perhaps he already knew the answer to that, because he said instead, “You know you can call me, right? Whenever?”

“Cassian, if I’m panicking, I’m not going to be able to write you a message. Even if I’m managing it, I’m going to be focused on breathing.”

“I know. But I mean, whenever you need anything. Even if it’s just that you don’t want to walk somewhere alone or that you need an extra blanket to stay warm.”

“Cassian, the baby’s going to be fine.”

His forehead creased. “Of course she’s going to be fine.”

“Right, I can take care of her, at least while she’s in me. So you don’t need to worry.”

“Of course I care about her, but Nes, I care about you too.” Cassian blinked. “You know that, right?”

Nesta nodded. “Yeah, because I’m her mother and I’m carrying her. But what I’m saying is that you don’t need to worry about me.”

His eyes widened slightly. “Don’t you know that I care about you, independently of her?” 

Nesta stared at him. Then she frowned. “Why?”

“What?” 

“Why do you care about me? You once told me that you couldn’t understand why my sisters would love me. I don’t understand either. So, why would  _ you _ care about  _ me _ , beyond our daughter?”

He ran a hand through his hair. “Nesta, you’re strong and passionate and beautiful. And I mean that in all ways.”

Nesta’s protest must have been evident in her expression.

“I have no idea why you don’t think you’re strong, but you are. Sure, I wished you could have trained physically with me, but your magic was strong enough to protect you. But that’s not what I mean. You’re strong-willed. You stand up for what you want and you protect those who need protection and you don’t bother to pretend to be soft just to suit someone else or to conform. You’ve gone through so much, and  _ of course _ you’ve been hurt but you’re still so incredible and just so strong,” Cassian tucked a strand of his hair behind his ear. “And you’re passionate about everything. I think you try to hide it sometimes but it’s amazing. When you talk about a book you love, your eyes light up. When you’re protecting Elain or declaring opinion in a room full of stuck-up high fae males with overinflated egos, you shine. Your wild, unrelenting heart is beautiful. You’re beautiful on the outside, when you were human and now as fae, but your true beauty lies inside, in your spirit that refuses to bow. Your flaming soul that can’t be tamed by the world.” Cassian ran a hand over his face. Was he blushing slightly? Nesta couldn’t tell in the dim light. 

“I’m sorry,” Cassian continued, “I don’t think you know how amazing you are. Part of that is my fault — I’m sorry about what I said. I was just hurt and being petty and I regret those words so much. I know I’m not very eloquent and I can’t really convey what I mean through words. I wish I could tell you how brilliant you are and how you deserve so much more but I hope you’ll let me show you instead.” He cleared his throat. “That is, someday, if you want to, of course.”

Nesta had no idea how to respond. “Do you really mean that?”

Cassian nodded.

“Oh.” Her eyes darted across the room, uncertain. “In that case, I care about you as well.”

Cassian let out a soft smile, which Nesta returned. 

She parted her lips to explain that she wasn’t amazing like he thought, but that she  ~~ loved ~~ liked that he could see the good in everything, even her. That he could be positive and funny but also serious and caring. But instead, a gasp escaped. 

Cassian was instantly on edge and scrambled to her side. 

“Nesta?”

She inhaled sharply again. But when she looked up at him and met his eyes, he realized that she seemed rather joyous. 

Nesta grabbed his wrists and placed his hands on her body. On her stomach, to be precise.

Cassian gave her a puzzled glance but his face morphed into one of wonder as he felt something press against his palm.

“Is that-?”

“She’s kicking,” Nesta nodded with a small smile.

Awe and bewilderment traversed his face before he settled on exhilarated jubilation. 

“She’s kicking,” he repeated, his eyes shimmering.

* * *

“Mmm,” Nesta moaned, as she took another bite of the noodles. 

Cassian chuckled. “Glad you’re enjoying it, sweetheart.”

Nesta rolled her eyes but gathered another mouthful on her fork. They were at Evadine Cuisine, a casual but well-reputed restaurant near Brielle’s Boutique. They had just finished their 7 months appointment with the Healer, who had informed them that everything was progressing steadily and that their daughter looked healthy. They were both hungry — Nesta blamed the pregnancy while Cassian declared that he was always willing to eat — but too tired to cook anything, so they decided to eat out at this restaurant they both wanted to try but had never been to. 

They were sharing clear noodles with grilled shrimp, which was mouth-wateringly good. The restaurant was well-deserving of its reputation.

“Any chance we could order from there every night?” Cassian asked, shoving another heaving spoonful into his mouth. Nesta shrugged, indicating that she was not at all opposed to said idea. The food disappeared quickly between the two of them. 

As they pondered what to order for dessert — unfortunately, it wasn’t possible to eat chocolate cake and ice cream and key lime pie and custard and crepes — someone suddenly called out “Nesta?”

Startled, she turned around quickly, only to find Brielle and Saibh staring back at her. They seemed to have been leaving the restaurant, but had passed close to her table on their way out.

“Hi!” Nesta greeted, happy to have encountered them but also very conscious of the fact that Cassian did not know them.

They approached her table and sent her with a smile.

“The food’s really good here, isn’t it?” Brielle commented.

Nesta nodded. “Yeah, we just devoured a huge bowl of this,” she pointed at the menu, at number 14, “but we’re now contemplating dessert.”

“I recommend the chocolate cake,” Saibh replied. “It’s always amazing. Although if you aren’t in the mood for chocolate, Riona loves the crepes.” 

As the conversation stagnated, Brielle and Saibh’s eyes shifted towards Cassian. 

Feeling slightly awkward, Nesta introduced, “This is Cassian. Cassian, these are my friends, Brielle and Saibh.”

Cassian gave them a grin. “Hey.” 

Saibh nodded politely, while Brielle merely blinked. The latter shot Nesta a questioning glance, which Nesta interpreted as ‘Is he the father of your baby?’ Nesta returned a discrete nod. 

Brielle eyed him. “Cassian, huh? Well, I mean… I guess anyone who can get Nesta to come to this place can’t be too bad. We’ve been trying to get her to come here for ages.”

The slightly confrontational demeanor Brielle had attempted to put on faded away as Cassian replied, “The truth is, I just needed the perfect excuse to come here myself.” 

Saibh’s eyes widened slightly. She whispered to Nesta in a very low voice, “Is that THE Cassian? As in the general commander of the Illyrian armies?” 

Nesta nodded subtly. 

Saibh’s eyes widened. 

Cassian and Brielle were making small talk about chocolate when Saibh asked, “General Cassian, is this the type of cuisine you’re fond of?”

Brielle raised an eyebrow at the title, but Cassian replied, “Please, just call me Cassian. I like lots of different foods, although I do have to admit that my comfort food is Illyrian.”

Brielle hummed. “Yeah, I do miss homemade Dawn cuisine sometimes but, alas,” she gave an overdramatized sigh that successfully made them all chuckle.

“You could cook it yourself?” Nesta suggested.

Brielle waved a hand dismissively. “It never comes out the same.”

“But I bet it’s really good,” Nesta prodded.

“Khoniya asked Brielle to make some the other day,” Saibh informed her. “It was incredible. I’ve never had anything like it.”

Brielle blushed slightly. “Yeah, well. Being a decent cook is my main skill — Mother knows I needed a skill — so.”

Nesta raised an eyebrow. “Are you forgetting you run a successful boutique?”

“Only because of your help,” she replied.

“And your complex calculations?”

“They really aren’t that complex. I only understand them because my aunt taught me to.”

Nesta shook her head. “Her cooking is delicious,” she informed Cassian.

“I’d love to try some, someday,” Cassian offered. His voice was as confident as always, but Nesta thought she saw a glimmer of hesitation or nervousness in his eyes.

Brielle nodded. “I’d be honored, General.”

“Seriously, please don’t call me that,” Cassian insisted.

Brielle let out a smirk that made it clear that she had merely been teasing the Illyrian.

“Do you enjoy cooking?”

“I don’t mind it, but I wouldn’t say it’s a hobby of mine. It does come in handy, though.”

“Ooh, do you subdue your enemies with cookies?”

“Oh my gosh, Brielle, stop it.”

“Brielle, of course I don’t subdue them with cookies. I use waffles for that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave comments :) They really do motivate me to write.  
> Kudos are always appreciated, of course.  
> Come talk to me on Tumblr! My acc is sayosdreams.  
> Thanks again for reading!  
> Love,  
> Sayo


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I am aware this chapter took a really long time. I'm so sorry!  
> Thanks for your continued support, though!  
> Shoutout to Kayleigh for beta reading this.  
> Sorry not sorry about the critique of the Night Court/Illyria dynamics.  
> I hope you enjoy!

“He was all strong muscles and swirly tattoos,” Brielle recounted for the hundredth time. Alright, perhaps that was a  _ slight _ exaggeration, but still. 

“Wait, wait, so he said he wanted to try your food?” Khoniya repeated. They were having their weekly dinner, but they were at Khoniya’s house this time. They had also decided to let Riona and Saibh join them.

Brielle nodded in answer to Khoniya’s question, ignoring Nesta’s groan.

“Are you going to invite him soon?” Khoniya asked. Then, smirking in Nesta’s direction, she added, “I want to meet Nesta’s handsome, muscular lover.” 

“I’m still here you know,” Elian called out playfully from the living room. 

“Go to sleep!” Khoniya replied, though a large grin decorated her face.

Elian merely laughed.

“I’m sure he’ll love to meet you, Khoniya,” Nesta said, rolling her eyes.

Saibh let out a small snort. 

Nesta glanced at her. “What?”

“Nothing,” Saibh took another bite of her food, “Just please warn me if you decide to have General Cassian visit this house.”

Nesta raised an eyebrow. “Why?”

Saibh shrugged passive-aggressively. “Forgive me if I’m not as welcoming to the High Lord’s Inner Circle.”

Nesta sighed, tension leaving her. “I understand why you may not be comfortable with the Inner Circle, and of course I’ll tell you beforehand if he’s coming but… Cassian isn’t that bad.”

“He’s a fearsome war general who commands thousands of brutes and kills at the High Lord’s orders,” Saibh countered. 

“I’m not going to say he’s perfect, but he is the head of the Illyrian army.” Nesta felt hypocritical as she added, “Don’t call them brutes when you don’t even know them.” 

“Calling Lesser Fae brutes is not generally something I appreciate,” Khoniya said softly, staring into her glass as she took a sip.

“I’m sorry,” Saibh acquiesced. She stared resolutely at Nesta. “He did kill thousands at the High Lord’s request, though. And every time the Inner Circle visits the Hewn City, General Cassian is uncivilized, mannerless and brutal. He’s also a vital part of the High Lord’s regime — the regime that forces the people of Hewn City to remain in a living hell with no other legal choice.”

“First off, yes, Cassian is a war general. That involves killing people. I’m not going to say that that is good or just, but that is his job,” Nesta replied, her face impassive. “Secondly, you know that whenever the Inner Circle visits Hewn City, they put on a facade, right? I don’t think that’s correct in any way, but Cassian isn’t actually so vile. You’re free to dislike him if you wish, but at least dislike who he really is and not some fake version of him. And lastly, I understand that he’s part of the High Lord’s shitty regime.” She sighed. “Look, I’m not going to excuse it, but consider this: do you think Cassian had any choice, either? He had one path drawn out for him, the path of being a warrior, and he followed it. He grew up in his own kind of hell, without a family, as a child in the war-camps.”

Saibh tilted her head, considering.

“I need to meet him,” Riona declared suddenly.

All eyes turned towards her. 

“What? I need to talk to him before passing judgement.” 

Nesta thought she had hidden her worry well, but Riona glanced at her and added, “Chill, Nesta, I’m not going to hate him completely. I mean, he  _ did _ help create your baby, little- what’s her name again?”

Nesta let out a small laugh. “That’s not going to work, Ri.”

“Oh come on! Just tell me her name already! I promise I won’t tell anyone.” 

Nesta merely chuckled in response. 

“Fine, then, I’m going to assume you’re trying to surprise me by naming her Riona. Don’t worry, I’ll act surprised when you tell me,” Riona quipped.

The mood had lightened considerably thanks to Riona.

Still, Nesta was appreciative when, after dinner, Saibh whispered to her, “Ri’s right. I can’t promise to like him, but I will give him a chance. And I’ll do my best to not  _ completely _ hate him, for your sake and for your daughter’s sake.”

* * *

“What a beautiful name!” Healer Galen said.

Nesta tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “It’s still a secret, so…” 

“Of course. As usual, I will use the utmost discretion,” she smiled.

Their 8 month appointment had gone smoothly. 

“And you’re sure she can still be active?” Cassian inquired.

“Again, the pregnancy looks good for now. There is no need to worry. I’ve examined everything and Nesta is fine to continue on as usual for now.”

Cassian nodded, blowing out a heavy breath.

Cassian wrapped his arms around her and they took off into the sky. It was getting harder and harder to travel this way as Nesta’s stomach grew, but they still managed. 

“They want to meet you,” Nesta blurted out suddenly.

“Who?” His eyes concentrated on the sky ahead of them, but she knew his focus was on her.

“My friends.”

“Oh.” His voice got a little higher as he said, “Um, sure. What do they- I mean, what should we, uh, do?”

Was he nervous?

“I think Brielle wants to invite you for a meal some time. The others want to meet you too.”

“When did you get so popular?” His tone was playful but Nesta stiffened.

“If you don’t want to meet-”

“No, no, no. Of course I want to meet them, I just…” He hesitated. “I’m not sure your friends like me. 

They landed in front of Nesta’s house and entered quickly, eager to escape the cold breeze. 

“They don’t dislike you. I think Brielle is actually fond of you,” Nesta said as they sat down. “The others haven’t even met you yet.”

“Saibh doesn’t like me,” Cassian pointed out.

“She hasn’t decided yet. That’s part of why she wants to get to know you,” Nesta retorted.

“So they’re evaluating me?” Cassian rubbed the back of his neck. “If I fail, your friends will hate me?”

Nesta shrugged one shoulder. “They probably won’t hate you.”

He sent her a half-panicked look.

“Just don’t fail,” she told him. 

It took every inch of restraint for her not to say _ “At least my friends are giving you a chance, which is more than you can say about your friends.” _

Instead, she opted to switch topics and ask, “How have you been?”

Cassian ran a hand through his hair. “To be honest, it’s been tough. I was in Illyria for a while and it’s difficult being there after spending so much time here in Velaris.”

She tilted her head in question. 

“It’s just that the standards are so different. In Velaris, equality is expected. People are happy about it and all, but it’s the norm. In Illyria, every attempt to even the playing field even slightly is met with a boatload of resistance by those who don’t want to lose even a fragment of their power. They want to keep their advantage and continue to marginalize those that they have always marginalized. They have fundamentally different philosophies from Velaris and it’s so hard sometimes…” He sighed. “Also… Velaris is a land of choice and of plenty. Illyria is beautiful in its own way and Rhys does his best to make sure there’s enough food for everyone, but really there are no choices. You follow the path of warriorhood that was given to you by being Illyrian. But,” he shut his eyes, “sometimes there’s kids who are so smart. The Illyrians would say that they’d be good at war strategy, but to make it that far, you have to be good at fighting and climb the ranks. These kids almost never get that far up, but you can tell that they’d be brilliant architects or artisans. It’s just such a waste.”

“You said before that Illyrians make Siphons. Why don’t they do that?” 

“It’s a very complex tradition. Those who do end up as Siphon makers are respected, but being a warrior is a more traditional path to success.” Cassian hesitated for a moment and then said quietly, “A long time ago, there was music and art and storytelling in Illyria. Festivals and dancing, feasts and revelry.” 

Nesta frowned. “What happened?”

There was a kind of ache in Cassian’s eyes as he looked at her that she had never seen before. “Illyria was conquered by the High Lord of the Night Court. At first, the Illyrians just needed to pay a tribute to the High Lord, but slowly we lost everything until we were no longer a people — we were merely an army.”

“Rhysand?” 

Cassian jerked. “No! This was long before him. It was probably his great-great-grandfather or his great-great-great-grandfather or something.”

“Do they still remember the old traditional songs?” Nesta asked, her voice quiet but resolute.

“A few of the very old females do. There are only less than a dozen left, as far as I know.”

“Only the females?” Nesta questioned.

Cassian smiled sadly. “The males die in combat.”

They sat together in silence for a few moments.

“Do the females want to fight?”

“A few of them do. The others think their place is at home.”

Nesta narrowed her eyes. “Well, if those that don’t want to fight shouldn’t have to fight, right?”

“It’s more a matter of principle,” Cassian explained. “We want to introduce gender equality in Illyrian society. This is the best way.”

“Why don’t you build a school and educate both the males and females?”

“It wouldn’t work,” Cassian replied, sounding defeated. “I did try something like that on a small scale, but the males just want their male children to learn to fight. The females need to do chores and learn how to cook, clean, make clothing, and all that stuff from the other females. They also don’t really want to be learning from anyone close to the Night Court, because they think it’s all useless, fake propaganda.”

“So why doesn’t an Illyrian teach them?”

“Az and I are too close to Rhys for us to be trusted. There are very few Illyrians who have education, let alone enough education to teach. And those that do have enough basic education are those that are on the fringes of Illyrian society. They get little respect and no one would listen to them for fear of shame.”

“I see.”

“Yeah.” Cassian sighed once more. “Sorry to bore you with such a depressing topic.”

Nesta shook her head. “I don’t find it boring.”

Something glistened in his eyes but he cleared his throat and asked, “So what have you been up to, sweetheart?”

* * *

“How old are you?” 

“541.”

“Hmm. That’s pretty old,” Riona remarked, taking another bite of the salad. 

Cassian nodded, but Nesta could see the tension in his body.

“You must have explored a lot of the world in your life then, right?” Riona asked. “Where have you been?”

Nesta narrowed her eyes at her friend, but Riona merely returned an innocent smile. It was far too innocent to be genuine. 

Cassian did not catch this and seemed to relax slightly. “I have traveled a fair amount. I’ve visited all the courts as well as the Mortal Lands a few times. I’ve visited Valhallan once too… but I don’t travel very often as having the general of the Illyrian armies present doesn’t always give off a good impression.”

Riona nodded. “I see. And don’t you think that females, especially young females< deserve a chance to explore the world as well?”

Cassian nodded enthusiastically. “Of course.”

“So then why are you tying Nesta down when she’s over 500 years younger than you?”

Nesta rolled her eyes. “Ri, that’s not-”

Cassian cleared his throat. “I have no intention of tying her down, Riona. I would support her travelling the world if she wishes to do so.” 

“Even with the baby?”

Cassian nodded. “I would want to be a part of their lives, of course, but I would support her no matter where she goes.”

Riona’s eyes were fierce as she replied, “Good.”

“So,” Khoniya injected. “Cassian, how cold is Illyria?”

“It’s very cold.” Cassian seemed grateful for Khoniya ending the interrogation. “It snows throughout half the year, but then it’s very hot during the other half.”

“Was it an adjustment when you moved to Velaris?” 

“At first I thought it was marvellous not to freeze to the core, but then I missed the snow.”

Khoniya smiled, “I understand what you mean. I thought I hated the fields where I grew up, but now I miss the leaves’ rich coloring, the tangy sweetness of the fruits and the warm sunlight.” 

Cassian smiled. “Where did you grow up?” 

Khoniya stiffened at the question despite Cassian’s friendly tone. Her eyes darted to the table, then the ceiling and then landed on Nesta. Nesta tried to make her eyes convey reassurance. To be quite honest, she had no idea how Cassian felt about people from other courts living in Velaris, but Khoniya hadn’t done anything illegal — surely Cassian wouldn’t do anything drastic, knowing Nesta was friends with Khoniya. 

Khoniya bit her lip.

Cassian furrowed his brow. “If you’d rather not talk about it, I’d understand.”

“No, no, that’s not…” Khoniya let out a breath and then met Cassian’s eyes. “I grew up in the Autumn Court.” 

Surprise flickered over Cassian’s face but disappeared quickly. 

“I came here to be with Elian, my husband and mate,” Khoniya explained. Nesta knew how nervous Khoniya was and felt a rush of admiration at her bravery. 

“Do you visit your family in Autumn Court frequently?”

Nesta knew that Cassian meant no offense by the question, but everyone at the table tensed, waiting to see how Khoniya would react.

“No.” Khoniya lifted her chin slightly in a gesture Nesta knew all too well — she refused to be ashamed. “I left my family to come here. They didn’t want me to be with a High Fae. I made a choice that I’m happy with, even if I do miss them.”

Cassian nodded slowly. “Are you able to get Autumn Court fruits here?”

“Unfortunately, no.”

“It’s hard to even find a decent store for Dawn spices,” Brielle chimed in. Then she smirked, “And Night Court cuisine is so  _ bland _ .”

“Hey! That’s not true!” Riona pouted.

“There are at least a few good dishes,” Saibh added on.

Brielle rolled her eyes playfully. “I could count them on one hand.”

“Illyrian food is definitely not bland,” Cassian replied.

“True,” Brielle admitted. Khoniya nodded.

“Really? I’ve never had Illyrian food,” Cian said, his eyes wide.

“Me neither,” Nesta remarked.

Riona’s eyes twinkled. “Cassian, could you make or bring us some Illyrian food sometime?”

Cassian chuckled. “I’d love to.”

The evening progressed smoothly after that.

By the end of the evening, even Saibh had relaxed around him, although she still didn’t seem to like him very much.

Right as they left, Brielle gave Cassian permission to stop by the coutique if he ever needed anything, although she did imply that she would demolish him if he did it too frequently.

As Cassian accompanied Nesta on the walk back to her house, he asked, “Do you think I passed?”

“What?”

“Do you think your friends are okay with me?” He sounded so unsure that Nesta couldn’t help but smile, despite the fact that he couldn’t see it in the darkness. 

“Yeah, they loved you.”

“Are you sure? Saibh seemed to be mad at me for some reason.”

Nesta sighed. “That’s complicated.” 

They walked in silence for a few moments.

“What did you think of Khoniya?” Nesta decided to ask.

“She seemed really kind.”

“She is.”

“Honestly, she seems to know so much about kids that I might have to ask her and her mate for some advice,” Cassian said jovially. His pitch dropped as he added, “Did I offend her when I asked about where she was raised? I didn’t know it was a sensitive topic, but, well, she seemed a bit uncomfortable.”

Nesta rolled her lips before answering, “I don’t think you offended her. She was just nervous about telling you because some fae think that Velaris should only be for Night Court fae and Autumn Court is particularly disliked right now. She didn’t know what your views were on the subject and especially since you’re in the Inner Circle, she was a bit worried about how you would react.”

“What? Why would anyone not want people from other courts in Velaris? We’re not at war or anything, and as long as they aren’t spies, there’s no issue. Especially Velaris — it’s supposed to be a city of dreams, where anyone can come and live out their dream. I would never be against that, especially as an Illyrian.” He sounded surprised.

“So you think anyone should be allowed to come to Velaris to have a better life?” Nesta dared.

“Yes,” Cassian said resolutely. Then, he hesitated. “Maybe not  _ everyone _ … For some people like Tamlin or Keir or Eris, it’s just not- their presence would ruin Feyre and Rhysand and Mor’s experience but those are exceptions.”

Nesta wondered how much to reveal. “What would you do if you found out that someone who isn’t supposed to be in Velaris is there? I don’t mean the kind of peop- fae you just mentioned, I mean like… random fae.”    
Before Cassian could respond, she added, “Not Khoniya — there’s nothing illegal about her being in Velaris. I just mean in general.”

“As long as they aren’t causing harm to the population of Velaris, there shouldn’t be an issue,” Cassian replied, sounding slightly confused.

Nesta nodded, just as they arrived in front of Nesta’s house.

* * *

“Cassian? What are you doing here?”

Brielle’s voice sounded shocked, but some other emotion was mixed in, too. 

Cassian looked around the busy boutique, wondering if he was intruding too much. He had been in Velaris and had missed Nesta (well, he was always missing Nesta) when he had the sudden urge to go and check up on her. This was the first time he had been to the boutique. He had hesitated to go in during their working hours, but the beautiful display window outside had made him decide to go in, even if he had to use the pretense on shopping for something.

Now he wondered if he should have remained outside. It wasn’t as if he had an actual reason for coming.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to disturb you,” he replied, stepping towards the door. He had gotten the impression that Brielle had liked him when they’d had dinner two weeks ago, but perhaps he’d misjudged her.

“No, you’re not disturbing anything, it’s just-” Her voice was confused yet firm and it stopped Cassian in his footsteps. “I thought you’d be with Nesta.”

A sudden panic gripped him. “What do you mean? Isn’t she here, at work?”

“What? No!” Brielle’s voice was too loud, and a few customers turned towards them to see what the fuss was about, but Cassian couldn’t have cared less. “Nesta said her stomach hurt. She kept getting these cramps every few minutes and Saibh said they might be contractions, so Saibh walked her home and Nesta called her healer.”

Cassian’s distress must have shown on his face. 

“I don’t know for sure but contractions are a sign of labor, aren’t they?” Brielle finished.

“But she can’t- It’s too early,” Cassian felt his heart pounding faster and louder. He blinked at Brielle then mentally slapped himself for wasting time and took off. He needed to be by her side for this, to hold her hand through the pain. He jumped into the sky, flapping his wings as fast as possible to reach Nesta. Oh god, would they be okay? Fae babies were often born late, not early. Their baby still had eight more weeks to go until her due date. Would his daughter’s lungs even be developed enough to breathe? What if there were complications that injured Nesta? Cassian didn’t allow himself to imagine the worst case scenario, but a cold dread settled into him nonetheless. 

He landed in front of Nesta’s apartment and stormed in — the door was left unlocked.

Saibh was sitting on the sofa. Her tumultuous eyes darted to him as he entered. He barely registered her saying, “The Healer is with her in her bedroom.”

Cassian gave her a small nod of acknowledgement as he stalked to the bedroom. 

He rapped on the door once to announce his arrival but didn’t wait for a signal to enter.

Nesta was on her bed, propped up by a few pillows. She was squeezing something in her palms and sweat glistened on her brow. 

It seemed like Nesta and the Healer had been talking, but they fell silent as the door opened.

“Cassian?” Nesta’s voice seemed confused and tired, so unlike her usual self that he almost winced.

“What’s going on?” he asked. He had no idea why he asked that, since he already knew what was happening, but it was the first question that had come to mind. 

Nesta shrugged one shoulder. “Oh, nothing much.”

Was she making a joke? But there was no mirth or irony in those words. “Are you kidding me? Nothing much?” Cassian registered that his voice sounded gravelly and panicked. “You giving birth — our daughter being born — is not  _ nothing much _ .”

“Cassian, calm down,” Nesta sighed. “I’m not  _ giving birth _ .”

His brow crinkled. “What do you mean? Brielle said you had contractions and-”

“It’s false labor,” cut in Healer Galen’s cool tone. “Very common occurrence. Painful, but the tonic I gave you should help. The baby isn’t coming yet.”

Cassian’s eyes slid to Nesta’s face, seeking confirmation. She nodded. 

He slumped into a chair next to Nesta’s bed with a sigh. Time blurred after that — Nesta’s contractions subsided, Saibh talked to Nesta and then left, the Healer left, the darkness replaced the light outside. Cassian remained in his chair, trying to process and let go of the fear that had enveloped him during his flight to Nesta’s house.

When they were finally alone and some time had passed, Nesta broke the silence.

“Cassian?” Though she uttered only a single word, he understood her well enough. She wanted to know what he was thinking, what he was feeling, what he wanted to say. 

He met her eyes. “Why didn’t you call me?” 

“I was a little busy having contractions, if you didn’t notice,” she pointed out, raising an eyebrow.

Some part of him wanted to slide on his fake grin, but another part of him urged not him to do that, not with Nesta. Besides, the whole endeavor had drained him and he lacked the energy required to conjure even his most familiar mask. 

“You could have asked Brielle or Saibh.”

“It was only false contractions, Cassian. It’s not a big deal.”

And he knew— of course he knew that it wasn’t a big deal, at least not in the grand scheme of things— and he shouldn’t have been this worked up about it but he was. Because it wasn’t about the false contractions.

“What if they were real?” That was not what he meant but he was not able to find the right words— he had never been Rhys with his grandiose speeches or Az who selected only a few words but always the perfect words. He could command an army, he could give orders, he could teach people to fight but he had never known how to express his emotions properly. 

“They weren’t, though.” Her eyes flitted to the heavens, as if she were annoyed that he kept on repeating this moot point. 

The words spilled out of him in a jumbled mess. “I know they weren’t real but- what if they were? Would you have called me then? Would you have asked anyone to tell me? I want to be here for you and for her and I- gods, Nesta, do you know how scared I was when I was flying to your house? She’s not supposed to be here yet- a million things could’ve gone wrong and she’s not even fully developed yet and what if she couldn’t- what if some complication hurt you and you- Gods, do you know how scared I was that I’d lose you both?” 

He placed his face in his hands to steady his breathing and to make the moisture in the back of his eyes recede and to avoid the inevitable ridicule in Nesta’s facial expression. He knew he was being ridiculous — they were both fine — and yet his fears remained.

“Cassian.” Her voice was softer than he expected. He would never cease to appreciate how his name, that same name that Illyrians had spat out, sounded when slid off her tongue. It sounded elegant. Maybe that should have reminded him that they were born worlds apart — her, a daughter of a rich merchant, him, a filthy bastard in a war camp — but instead it made him feel warm inside. “I’m fine. We’re both fine.”

“I know.” She hadn’t understood what he had meant, obviously, since his ‘speech’ had been a combination of half sentences and sharp breaths. 

Nesta continued, “I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you. I didn’t mean to avoid you or cause you to worry. I know that I should’ve at the very least had Brielle or Saibh write to you but I was kind of caught up with everything that was happening. When it’s the real thing, or if this ever happens again, of course I’ll tell you.” 

He nodded. That was what he wanted, wasn’t it? Then why was it that he still felt that something was not right?

He handed her a glass of water. 

“Nesta,” he said after a moment, “you don’t need to say yes, but how would you feel about moving into the house we bought together soon? By soon, I mean as soon as possible.” He ran a hand through his hair. “I know we see each other more often now and,” his eyes flickered to her stomach, “she isn’t here yet, but I don’t want to miss any more moments. I don’t mean just this stuff but like- I want to be there if you’re craving something or if you suddenly get the urge to talk or take a midnight stroll or if you need a massage or whatever. I lo-,” he cleared his throat, “I enjoy spending time with you and talking to you and I just- I don’t see the point in us living apart. If you want to have some privacy while you still can, I understand. I just mean that for me, one meal I share with you is worth a million dinner parties at the House of Wind or the Estate or the Town House. I can’t stop thinking about you and the time I spend there just feels wasted. It could be put to better use if I spent it with you.”

He let a small smirk coat his last sentence, perhaps to mask the vulnerability in what he had just shared. 

Nesta studied him, her beautiful eyes unreadable. 

“Won’t your friends miss you?”

He didn’t miss the way she says ‘friends’, like there were a thousand things she wanted to say about them, but he ignored it. That was a conversation for another day.

“They’ve been around me for centuries. We could use a break.”

“And Feyre?”

Now, Cassian allowed his smile to bloom. “I doubt she’ll miss me. She’s a little preoccupied during her free time with a certain High Lord of the Night Court.” 

Nesta rolled her eyes.

“How much furniture did we put in there? How long would it take to move in?” Her voice was contemplative and provided no insight on how she felt on the matter.

“Most of what we need is already there. We would need to bring clothes and dishes and all that.” He tapped his chin, estimating. “Maybe a day or two at most.”

“Okay then.” She nodded. She stretched her arms up once and then got off of her bed

Blinking, he asked, “What?”

Nesta laughed. Her smile lit her up and her eyes sparkled. She was so the most mesmerizing sight he had ever seen.

“I guess we’ll be living together in 2 days, then,” she shrugged.

Cassian’s lips parted but no words escaped. Was this a dream? Nesta Archeron, who was pregnant with his baby, agreeing to move into their new house in two days definitely sounded like one of his dreams. 

Some of his awe must have shown on his face. Nesta grinned once more and then burst out laughing. Once he recovered from his state of shock (which took an embarrassingly long time), Cassian’s chuckled joined in. Their laughter was a melody that filled the night and lulled their unborn daughter to sleep.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave comments and kudos :)  
> Thanks for reading!  
> The next chapter may take a while again (sorry!) because I'm busy with school and college applications and stuff but I promise that it WILL be posted before the end of November.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys! Sorry about the long hiatus. Life's been busy and I was getting a little burnt out, but I'm back now!   
> Anyway, thanks for all of your kind comments and support! Shoutout to my beta reader for this chapter, Miri.   
> Happy Holidays, everyone! Hope you enjoy this chapter :)

The sweet smell of blueberry pancakes pervaded the house as sunlight streamed through the blue curtains. 

Nesta blinked awake. She got up out of bed — which was an actual feat now that she was eight months pregnant — and walked to the kitchen, determined to find the source of the delectable aroma. Perhaps, had she not been still muddled from sleep, she wouldn’t have been as surprised at the sight in the kitchen as she was. 

Cassian was cooking pancakes. Wearing loose pants and a thin, tight t-shirt that left very little ~~of his abs~~ to the imagination, he sang a soft tune. 

She blinked for an embarrassingly long time before finally processing the scene. Cassian, engrossed in his tune, didn’t seem to notice her presence until he turned to place the plate of pancakes on the table.

“Oh! Sorry, did I wake you?” 

“Oh, no, I woke up with the sunlight.” 

They fell into silence for a moment but Cassian did not resume singing.

“You-” Nesta began, at the exact moment Cassian said, “I m-”

They both fell silent again, until a large grin appeared on Cassian’s face.

“I made pancakes,” he tilted his head towards them.

Nesta sat down at the table, waiting until Cassian took his own seat before speaking. “What prompted all this pancake-making?”

He shrugged. “I felt like eating pancakes. And honestly, no house is home until you’ve eaten pancakes in it,” he joked, gaze suddenly becoming concerned. “Why? Does it make you nauseous? If you’d rather eat something else, I can-” 

“I like pancakes,” she interrupted. After a short pause, she added a quiet, “Thank you.”

“No need to thank me, Sweetheart. You’re doing all the hard work, growing a baby in there. This is the least I could do.”

Nesta smiled into her glass as she took a sip of water. 

“So,” Cassian continued, “do you have a busy day ahead of you?”

She nodded. “The bookstore has been getting a lot more customers recently. They seem to really like the setup, with the drinks and all the bookish trinkets we stock along with the wide selection of books.”

“Are you mainly running the bookstore section now?”

“Well, it’s not like the store is huge or anything. Saibh takes care of the drinks, Brielle takes care of the register, and I help customers.” Nesta tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “Although I must admit, I’m somewhat partial to monitoring the bookstore section.” 

“I wouldn’t expect anything else,” Cassian laughed. He sounded…amused? No, _proud_. He sounded proud. 

“What about you?” 

“Hmm?” Cassian devoured another pancake.

“Do you have a busy day ahead of you?” She mimicked his earlier words. 

“Not too bad. I’m still here in Velaris. Today I’ll discuss with Rhys about the plan for the upcoming meeting, where we get the food and other resources for Illyrians.”

“What do you need to discuss? Was there insufficient crop growth this year?”

“No, no. It’s not that,” Cassian sighed. “The farmers are always hesitant about giving so much to the Illyrians, who they view as backward savages. And of course, they always argue that if we increase the amount we give them, it’ll only make the camp lords fatter and that the females will still starve.”

“Is that true?”

“To some extent. It’s improved over the years, but…” Cassian ran a hand through his hair. “In Illyrian society, males are supposed to be the ones who bring honor to the family by fighting and climbing the ranks. So the males are fed the most, and if there isn’t enough food for everyone, the females’ portions are reduced. There’s no explicit rule or anyone telling them to do so; it’s just tradition. Which makes it harder to change.”

“But what if there is enough?”

Cassian huffed a tired, ironic laugh. “There’s never enough food or resources. There’s always freezing children and starving females.” He shook his head. “Still, things have gotten much better now. We make sure that there’s a portion designated for orphans and for widows, who are the groups that usually get the least resources because they’re last in the pecking order.”

Nesta cocked her head. “So, going back to what you were saying about the farmers, do you think there really is no need to buy so much food, as long as it’s distributed to the groups you mentioned?”

Cassian shook his head. “The farmers, just like other High Fae, look down on Illyrians. They always expect a huge, powerful legion to appear and win all their wars, but never bother to think about how many Illyrians there really are. Also, Illyrians aren’t heartless. Yes, males eat first, but they still do their best to make sure that their mates and children don’t go hungry. We do our best to ensure that those who usually fall between the gaps in the system don’t go hungry, but everyone will go hungry if those farmers had their way. We need to give them food.”

“Well then.” Nesta’s eyes sparkled at his passion. “I hope your meetings go well,” she declared as she walked over to the sink to wash her plate.

His voice sounded soft and raw as he replied, “Thank you, Nesta.”

* * *

“This is supposed to be a safe space for _us_.” 

“Yeah, but the fae who wants to join is just a child.”

“It’s a matter of principle.”

“I don’t see the point if just anyone can come in here.” 

“They have everything. Why can’t this be just for us?”

“EVERYONE QUIET,” Khoniya yelled. Her eyes looked sad and Nesta felt as though she were about to be scolded by her mother. A hush instantly fell over the room. 

“Thank you.” Khoniya’s voice had returned to it’s normal low tone. “Now. I decided to create this meeting space to help those of us whom the rest of the world has forgotten to achieve our dreams, too. I founded this to help us find each other and have fun together and make sure Velaris’ stars answer our dreams, too.”

Her eyes swept over the occupants of the room, whose number had risen to almost forty. “This is not a dictatorship. I’m no more important than any of you — you each have a right to express if something makes you feel uncomfortable or unsafe.” She swallowed. “What I won’t allow is gatekeeping. There is no one who is more or less entitled to be a member because of their background.”

Khoniya motioned with her hand that they could speak if they wanted. Ornella, a Urisk from the outskirts of Spring, voiced her opinion. “I come to this club because it’s a safe space for us. If we allow just anyone to join, the whole idea of having a place for us will be ruined.”

“New members join each time,” Arnav replied. He was some sort of Lesser Fae and his parents had been from Summer Court, but he had lived his whole life in Night. His ocean-colored eyes sparkled as he spoke with passion. “This is supposed to be a place for _anyone_ who wants a safe space that they can’t find in Velaris. You just don’t want members who don’t fit your idea of what the club should look like.”

“What are you saying?” Ornella raised a defiant eyebrow. 

Arnav crossed his arms. “You think members need to be Lesser Fae or from a different Court.”

“That’s not true!” Ornella argued. “Saibh, Riona and Cian are club members and I adore them!”

Arnav made to reply, but Iridiana cut him off. “That’s not true. You accept them because you know that they’re from- they’re not from Velaris.” Iridiana stumbled over her words: even within the club, it was prudent not to leak information about them being from Hewn City. Iridiana had only recently been told the information herself, due to her blossoming friendship with Cian (which was more than just friendship according to Riona). “Plus, they helped make the club so you can’t kick them out.”

“How dare you? I have marvellous conversations with Saibh and Riona! I accept them because they have a reason to be in the club!”

Alizeh, a wraith, cut in, “It’s true that there’s really no point letting members join if they don’t have a reason. If Velaris is already a safe space for them, why do they need to be here, while we don’t have anywhere else?”

“I’m not saying we should let the High Lord join,” Iridiana answered, rolling her eyes, “but for anyone else, how are we supposed to judge if they need to join or not?”

“Well, if they’re a Night Court High Fae, they don’t really need a safe space because Velaris is their safe space, like Alizeh said,” Fannar — a Winter Court lesser fae — interjected.

Kemena — a half-Illyrian, half-Peregryn female — scoffed. “And you think you can judge based on species and place of origin, just like that?”

“Well, obviously everyone has problems, but everyone can’t be here.”

“And why not? Why can’t we allow anyone who wants to join to join?”

“Because then it won’t be a space for those of us who really need it!”

“And you think you can judge?” Kemena demanded. “Yes, of course we face struggles because of our species and our place of origin. But what of the Night Court High Fae who were violated — physically, emotionally or mentally? What of those for whom their houses are a prison they long to escape? Those who lost everyone in the war and lost their own spirit alongside them — and have nowhere to go? Why can’t we be a place where the lost and the hurt and the lonely come to find joy and to heal?”

The room fell quiet at her question.

“Okay, I propose that we continue to let anyone join. We’ll keep the flyers discrete to avoid unwanted attention and recruit those who need somewhere to go, no matter their background,” Iridiana declared after a beat.

“Let’s vote on it,” Khoniya proposed. “All those in favor?”

There were a few whispers, but then everyone raised their hand. 

“Okay, great,” she smiled. “Well, that’s the end of this official part of the meeting then, unless anyone has anything else they want to talk about. Otherwise, you can carry on — drinks are over there,” she pointed, “and if you need to sit down, you can grab a chair from there,” she pointed the other way. “We also have chairs that accommodate wings.”

‘“Wait,” Zuwena — a female from Day Court — stood up. “I wanted to discuss an idea I had.”

Everyone turned towards her and she smiled at them shyly, as if she wasn’t used to so many fae listening to her.

“I know that many of us have different skills and talents,” she said tucking a braided strand of black hair behind her ear, “and I was thinking maybe we could share them with each other, like little workshops. Just for people who are interested, of course,” she added hurriedly.

“I think that’s a fabulous idea,” Arnav smiled.

Alizeh nodded. “I know that some of us never had the chance to learn to write in the Common Tongue, so maybe that could be one of the courses, if someone is willing to teach it?” 

Nesta was about to volunteer, but Saibh cut in, “I’d love to!”

“Ooh, Luria, I know you’re amazing at knitting, could you teach me?” 

“What about Brielle’s cooking?” 

“I could teach Summer Court cooking, if anyone is interested?” 

“I’m definitely interested!”

The room erupted into a million different excited conversations. 

* * *

When Nesta arrived at work, Saibh and Brielle were talking quietly, huddled together behind the counter despite the shop behind completely empty. As Nesta walked over to them, Brielle explained, “I was just showing Saibh how I organize our register, so that she can run the drinks register more smoothly.” 

Nesta nodded. Saibh had been arriving at work before Nesta recently and Brielle seemed to be giving her different tips on how to run the shop. Upon Nesta’s arrival, they’d spring up from whatever corner they’d been in and would change the topic of conversation to ask Nesta about how she was doing or recount something that had occurred at Khoniya’s house. Nesta wasn’t jealous that Brielle and Saibh were growing closer. She was secure in their friendship (and it didn’t hurt that Nesta, Khoniya and Brielle still had their weekly dinner, just the three of them). 

Still, she was slightly hurt that Brielle thought that Nesta wasn’t interested — or maybe, wasn’t qualified enough — to learn about the intricacies of how the boutique was run. 

As the shop opened to customers, Nesta became too busy to worry about such petty matters. The number of customers had increased significantly since the bookstore and drinks sections of the store had opened and Nesta was occupied all day. Although the majority of her day had been fairly monotonous, she had reveled in the moment where she’d recommended one of her favorite books to a young fae whose eyes had lit up upon reading its description. 

All in all, she was in a pretty good mood when the day ended. She went to check the drinks counter and found that it was empty, as was the main register. Nesta wondered where they were for a brief moment, until she heard voices coming from the backroom.

She felt a twinge of irritation, which she immediately shot down. It was crazy to be so worked up about this. She decided she wasn’t going to do this anymore — there was no reason to hide her desire to learn from her closest friends. She was going to go in there and tell them that she wanted to learn, too. Nesta steeled herself, then walked into the backroom. And froze.

Instead of leaning over the table and examining the spreadsheets or checking the remaining stockpiles, Brielle and Saibh were standing mere centimeters apart, staring at each other. 

“You don’t understand,” Nesta heard Saibh say. “I haven’t told Riona or Cian yet because in Hewn, these kinds of relationships weren’t allowed.”

“You’re not in Hewn anymore.” Brielle’s voice sounded like a strange mixture of softness and nervousness. 

Saibh shut her eyes. “I know, but I’m just scared…” 

Brielle brought one of her hands up, next to Saibh’s face, and caressed her cheekbone. 

Nesta’s gaze landed on Brielle’s other hand, which was intertwined with Saibh’s. Realizing the intimacy in the scene she had stumbled upon, Nesta quickly back out of the room, careful not to make any noise. 

* * *

“How was your day?” Nesta asked as she sat down across from Cassian to eat dinner with him, as had become their routine over the past few weeks of living together. Cassian had made miso soup, rice, and roasted fish and vegetables — all of which smelled extremely appetizing. 

“Tiring,” he grinned. 

Nesta took a sip of her miso soup, giving Cassian a pleased look to convey just how tasty it was. She then nodded, signaling that he could continue talking about his day.

Cassian took a long breath. “First, Amren wanted to purchase some dangerous magical artifact and Rhys dared to ask her where she was planning on storing it, since apparently the artifact can’t be around other magical items so Amren can’t keep it in her apartment. Amren said she was going to keep it at the Town House and then that sparked some arguments because apparently it could mess with the wards or something.” He ran a hand through his hair. “Then, we got news that Ridgehearth, one of the camps, had an uprising. Some of the young ones didn’t like the way it was run, I guess. They declared that they’re starting a separate camp.” He sighed. “I want to be happy for them, for standing up against shitty traditions and rebelling, but then I have to think about how this means they’re going to need a ton of supplies as they set up their camp. We have no idea how many Illyrians from Ridgehearth will be moving and then we’ll have to redistribute resources and possibly even get new types of supplies, since I usually try to get new camps seeds and some other things so they could try to grow some of their own food. It usually doesn’t work out with the mountainous environment but this new camp is supposedly close to _Bosqueiji,_ the Jade Forest. Anyway, I’m going to have to try to get a decent amount of money to buy those seeds for them, which’ll be hell, since we already finished budgeting for this year.” Cassian ran a hand over his face. “Then, lunch was very awkward since Lucien was there. He’s in town for a bit, apparently. The rest of the work day was just as draining. Then in the evening, Mor and Feyre kept trying to invite me to go to Rita’s and when I finally convinced them that I couldn’t, Rhys suggested that they come visit my new house.” He rolled his eyes. 

Nesta grimaced sympathetically. “What did you say?”

“I told him that I bought the house to get a break from him and Feyre’s sexcapades, and I didn’t need their scents all over it,” he huffed. “Course that just led to Mor saying she wasn’t a horndog, so she should be able to come over. I avoided it this time but honestly, I don’t know how I’m gonna keep ‘em off.” 

Nesta knew the Inner Circle was a huge part of Cassian’s life: they were not only his friends and surrogate family, but also his co-workers. Asking him about his day inevitably led to a mention of at least one of them. She had gotten better at being a neutral listener; after all, Cassian’s interactions with them had little to do with her own and dragging up her emotions about them would only lead to meaningless arguments. However, today’s topic was getting dangerously close to her own relationship with them. 

“Oof, well, good luck,” she said, trying to think of a safer topic. 

Unfortunately, Cassian was not on the same page. “It’s getting tough to keep avoiding them and honestly I’m starting to doubt it’s worth the effort.” He cocked his head. “How opposed would you be to them coming over sometime?”

Nesta blinked, bewildered. “Are you kidding me? I thought I made it clear that I didn’t want to tell them about the baby and, I’m not sure if you’ve noticed, but it’s rather obvious that I’m pregnant.” The end of her sentence was coated with venom as her emotional walls rose. She and Cassian had grown closer slowly over the past few months and then quickly in the short time they’d lived together. They’d fallen into a comfortable pattern of domesticity and what she’d dared to call friendship in her head. She had thought they’d moved past this. She’d been stupid to place so much trust — so much hope — in him.

Cassian frowed. He had the audacity to look surprised at her tone. “I didn’t mean- you don’t need to be here when they visit.” 

Nesta let a silence settle between them, giving him time to reconsider his words. The Nesta of a few months ago would have scoffed and stormed out, gone back to her apartment to wallow in self-pity, anger, and self-hatred. The Nesta of a year ago would have dove into the depths of a bottle of alcohol or sought out some sexual companionship to try to distract herself from her emotions; she would’ve woken up to a pounding headache and throbbing desire to end her own miserable existence. Nesta considered it a testament to her own growth that she was able to stay composed as she answered with a stony, “This is my home, too.”

Cassian clearly had no idea of her internal struggle. “Yes, I know, I just meant that I didn’t think you’d want to see them, so you don’t need to be here if you don’t want to.”

“Cassian, I understand that they’re important to you,” Nesta began, deciding that this would be good practice for her patience which would inevitably be tried when her daughter grew older, “but this is our house — our private space. I feel safe here.”

One side of Cassian’s lips curved upwards. She resisted the urge to roll her eyes.

“I don’t feel comfortable with them visiting, even if I’m not around. I don’t want this place to be… compromised.” 

Cassian was still for a moment. Then he nodded. “Okay.” Yet a frown remained on his face. 

Nesta rolled her shoulders, trying to ease the slight pain that had built up in her back. 

Cassian’s eyes turned concerned. “Are you okay?”

It was Nesta’s turn to nod while frowning. 

Cassian walked over to her side of the table and pulled out a chair besides her. Then, he motioned for her to turn. Her shoulders sagged in relief, tension leaving her as his fingers dug into her back. She loved Cassian’s massages. 

“Nesta, can I ask you something?” 

Nesta had a sudden recollection of being a child who would’ve replied with a smirk and a ‘ _you just did’_. Unfortunately, Nesta was supposed to be an adult and have maturity. She hummed her assent. 

“You don’t want the Inner Circle to come over and you didn’t want them to find out about your pregnancy.” Cassian noticed how much her body had tensed at the words _Inner Circle_ and quickly added, “I don’t want to fight — I just want to talk and understand. Why do you hate them?”

This time Nesta couldn’t suppress the scoff. She debated turning around to glare at Cassian, but his fingers felt sinfully good; to be honest, moving would be punishing herself more than Cassian, so she remained still. “I don’t _hate_ them. I just… they don’t like me. I don’t particularly like them and I don’t like how they make me feel.”

“What do you mean?” He sounded genuinely curious, which made Nesta’s heart clench, though she wasn’t sure if it was due to joy or sadness. 

Nesta sighed. “Every time I see them, they make it clear how much they dislike me. They usually get tense and I can feel everyone’s eyes on me, judging me. The best I can hope for is that they quickly forget about me so I can fade into the background. They…” She rolled her lips. Nesta hated exposing her thoughts and emotions like this, but then again, Cassian was going to parent her child with her. She had no idea when she’d have another chance to explain the complex relationship she had with the Inner Circle. Nesta mentally thanked Brielle and Khoniya for helping her learn to open up and withstand the sensation of being naked and vulnerable. 

“Rhysand doesn’t like me, probably because of my childhood with Feyre. I understand, I do, but he takes every opportunity to remind me that he’s the most powerful High Lord in existence while I’m just an unwelcome fae living under his rule. He loves to remind me that I’m at his mercy — that I should be grateful that he isn’t tearing my brain apart or controlling my body. Morrigan…” 

A bitter laugh escaped her lips. “She loves to talk about how difficult I am and how much alcohol is required to withstand my presence. She whispers about what a whore I am, just loud enough for me to hear her. Not to mention she can’t go five seconds without telling me to stay away from you.” 

“What?” He sounded startled, as if he hadn’t intended to speak but couldn’t resist making a sound at her words.

Nesta shrugged one shoulder. “She doesn’t think I’m good enough for you.” She rolled her eyes, though Cassian couldn’t see it. “Anyway… the rest of them are fine. I don’t know Azriel very well — he seems fine, if quiet, though it’s not like he’s ever stood up for me.” She resisted the urge to yell that Cassian hadn’t ever stood up for her either. “Amren is…” She didn’t have the words to express how she felt about her. “She wants me to be someone I’m not and expects me to be happy about it,” was all Nesta could say. 

“Feyre and Elain are my sisters. I know we have a complicated past but… still. I know that I’m just unwanted baggage for them and, despite everything, it’s a bit humiliating, especially since I’m their older sister.” Nesta tried to laugh, but it sounded pathetic, even to her own ears.

“Fundamentally, none of them understand me,” Nesta said quietly. “The Inner Circle doesn’t care about me. And it’s fine, I mean, I barely know them. There’s really no need to pretend or to force a connection when they just make me feel like less than the dirt under their feet. My sisters… They do care, but they don’t understand either — they never have. I’m glad they’re doing well. I’m glad they’re happy. But they… well, especially Feyre… it’s like she can’t comprehend that it’s possible for me to be unhappy. She thinks this is heaven. She also doesn’t understand that I’m not Elain or Morrigan or even her.” 

Cassian’s hands had stilled at some point during her monologue. Nesta finally turned around, dread pooled in the pit of her stomach, half-expecting to see Cassian looking bored and ready to fall asleep or angry and defensive. Instead, Cassian looked both shocked and enthralled. “This must be some kind of misunderstanding. Rhys and Mor aren’t those kinds of people.”

“Or maybe I just bring out the worst in people.” She shrugged, ignoring Cassian’s protesting stare. “Look, I don’t hate them. I just don’t want them here, in our house, and I don’t want them teaching our daughter to hate me before she can even talk.” 

“They wouldn’t-” Cassian began, before cutting himself off. “How come you’ve never told me this before?” He asked instead. His tone wasn’t accusing; Cassian sounded as though he was trying to process a lot of new information, which he probably was.

“You never asked.”

“Yeah, I guess so,” he breathed. Cassian ran a hand through his hair. “Does that mean you don’t want our daughter to meet them? Ever?” 

“Well, first off, I didn’t want them around during the pregnancy because it’s hard enough without all the added… stress.” Cassian nodded. A light shone in his hazel eyes and he looked as though he finally understood. 

“I’m sure they’ll meet someday,” Nesta said. “I would just prefer that she doesn’t meet them while she’s a baby, if possible.” 

Her eyes darted to the wall and she took a deep breath, then met Cassian’s eyes. “I know that they’re your family, so I understand if you want them to meet her while she’s still a baby. They’ve been with you for hundreds of years so it’s fine that they’re your priority. I just wanted you to understand where I’m coming from.”

Cassian looked floored. “They’re not my priority,” he replied after a moment of silence. He cleared his throat and continued. “Thank you for telling me about how you feel.” His hazel eyes were soft and seemed to convey that he knew how difficult talking about emotions was for her. “I think I understand now. I do want them to meet her someday, but it doesn’t need to be right away or when she’s a baby.” A soft smile spread over his face. “And Nesta, you two are my priority.”

“Cassian, you don’t need to…” Nesta sighed. “I know that Rhys is your High Lord and Feyre is your High Lady and you’re the General of the Night Court. Your first loyalty will always be them. I know they’re your brothers and your friends and your family.” Her eyes dropped to the floor. “I appreciate that you care about me and about our daughter, Cassian. It’s okay that the Inner Circle will always come first.”

“Nesta, you don’t understand.” He sounded frustrated and his tone was suddenly louder, causing Nesta to look up at him. “Yes, I’m friends with the Inner Circle and Rhys and Az are my brothers. Yes, I am loyal to my High Lord and Lady. But my first loyalty, my priority, will always be you two. You’ll always come first because you’re everything I ever wanted.” 

Cassian let out a break. “Nesta, ever since I was a child, a bastard and then an orphan, I dreamed of having a family. Yes, Az and Rhys are my brothers, but Nesta, you’ve given my own family and you’re giving me a _child_ and that’s an infinitely precious gift that I-” Cassian winced at his own inability to voice his emotions. “I care about her and I care about you,” he said finally. “I’ve said it before but we never got to finish that conversation. I care about her and you more than anything or anyone else in this world. I love that together you are my family. I love our daughter, because she is a part of you and me, and I love her independently for being her. I love that she craves strange snacks in the middle of the night and craves expensive macarons whenever you see them. I love that she kicks extra hard when we laugh. I can’t wait to meet her and learn everything about her and show her the world.” His eyes had rested on her baby bump as he’d spoken about their daughter, but now, they rose to meet hers. They were intense and seemed to pierce through her walls and armor and facades and really looked at her, in a way very few people had ever done. “And you, Nesta. I love that you’re her mother and that you decided to share this with me. I love how much you care about her. And independently, I love that you’re so strong — that you dealt with the horrible things life threw your way and somehow emerged as… you.” He said the word _you_ as though it were the word ‘marvellous’ or ‘brilliant’ or ‘miraculous’. “You’re kind and care and fiercely protective of those you love. You’re beautiful and passionate and-” His eyes sparkled and a joyous laugh burst from his lips. His face shone as a grin coated it. He looked astounded, as though he had stumbled upon an unexpected treasure chest that brought him infinite happiness. “You’re everything, Nesta.” The sentence made little sense, but Nesta understood his meaning perfectly — she was everything he had ever dreamed of, everything he never even dared to hope for, everything he needed and wanted and cared about ~~and loved~~. 

Tears sprung to her eyes at the way he had said her name. Nesta. As if she embodied everything good this world had to offer. As if she was a precious miracle. As if he loved her.

No one had ever said her name like that.

Mesmerized by the look in his eyes, she answered, “Cassian, you’re strong and good and kind. You’re the most loyal and funny and caring person I know. You’re beautiful and bright, inside and out.” 

Once, Nesta would have thought, _I’m not good enough_. But over these past few months, Nesta had become someone she loved and respected — someone who was worthy of love and respect. Someone who might just be good enough for the strong, kind-hearted male before her.

She hadn’t even noticed that either of them had moved forward, but their foreheads leaned together as she whispered, “Cassian, you’re everything.” 

And then they were kissing. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Please leave a comment (they really do motivate me to write).  
> I've also written some one shots, so you can read those if you're interested.   
> If you ever want to send me some prompts or just talk, my Tumblr is @sayosdreams.  
> Thanks again!   
> I hope you all have a great (or at least better) 2021.   
> Love, Sayo


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! I hope you're all hanging in there.  
> Shoutout to my beta reader for this chapter, Miri.  
> Thank you to everyone who left a comment on the last chapter — I read every comment and they really motivate me to keep writing. I really appreciate it :)  
> Now, without further ado, here's the chapter! Enjoy!

Nesta sighed as she turned to the next page of her novel. 

She was sitting on the sofa besides Cassian, who had spread his wings out to rest them on top of the backrest. His eyes were half-closed as he relished the sunlight streaming through the window, warming his wings. 

“Are you alright, sweetheart?” Cassian asked, lifting his head.

Nesta hummed her assent. 

Some strands of her hair had fallen loose from her braid and glimmered in the light. Cassian observed her for a moment, his eyes filled with admiration, or perhaps joy, before raising a hand to tuck the strands back behind her ear. His fingers brushed her neck and came to rest on her shoulder. She leaned into his touch. 

“I’d be better if Emily would just admit that she’s in love with Simon,” Nesta replied, giving the book a dirty glance as if it would change Emily’s actions. 

Cassian let out a soft chuckle. 

He watched her as she continued to read — her eyes darting across the page, widening and narrowing in reaction to the plot — until she closed the book. He raised an eyebrow in question, knowing the book still had well over a hundred pages left.

“Oh my gods, I can’t believe she’s so stupid! I  _ told  _ her not to go there, and she did it anyway! What did she expect? Of course he was mad at her! He doesn’t even know about her plans! Why didn’t she just listen to me?” Nesta said passionately.

Cassian couldn’t help his smile. “I don’t think she heard you, sweetheart.”

Nesta rolled her eyes but a grin spread across her face. She leaned back against his chest. They sat in silence for a few moments. Cassian’s hand gently caressed her braided hair. When his hand disappeared, his lips met the top of her head, placing a soft kiss. 

“Have you always braided your hair?” Cassian asked quietly, his voice like a blanket enveloping her in secure warmth. 

“I think so. My mother taught me,” she recalled. “She used to braid it for me, until I was… six? No, I think, four?” Nesta shifted slightly. “Anyway, after that, I braided my hair and my sisters’.” A small smile spread across her face. Although Cassian couldn’t see it from his position behind her, he felt it. “They used to love it. Elain wanted me to try all those intricate waterfall braids and lace braids on her. She loved to tuck wildflowers into her hair, too.” Nesta chuckled slightly. “Feyre… She loved dutch braids and mermaid braids. Oh, and four-stranded braids, too. I remember that she’d always ask if I could braid a ribbon into her hair. Mother hated it because it was unladylike, but we did it sometimes if she was away.” Nesta tilted her head. “Actually… I think Mother allowed it for Summer festivals when we were very young. We’d all show up to the fair with crazy hair — Feyre with multicolored ribbons, Elain with flowers, and me.” 

“That must’ve been quite a sight.”

“I’m sure it was. The townspeople must’ve thought the merchant’s daughters were crazy, but we didn’t care about all that back then.” Her shoulders tensed. “My mother did, though.”

“Did you keep braiding your sisters’ hair?” He asked, steering clear of the topic of her mother, which seemed to distress her. 

“I did, for a while. Of course, there were no more ribbons when we were older, since we sold everything that could get us any money.” She paused for a few seconds, considering what to say, before continuing. “They had learned to braid it themselves by then, but they still asked me for special occasions.”

Cassian’s arm wrapped around her and his hand came to rest on her stomach. 

“I’m sure she’ll love your braids,” he murmured.

Nesta went unnaturally still. “I hope so. There’s not much else I can do for her.”

Cassian wrinkled his brow. “What do you mean?”

“I’m sure you know that I wasn’t the best older sister to Feyre. Or to Elain, really. And you know how crappy my life was back when I lived at my old apartment.” The  _ ‘and was drunk _ ’ went unsaid. “Clearly, I’m barely able to take care of myself and my track record shows that I’m even worse at taking care of others.” 

“Nesta, first of all, you were a  _ child _ when all that stuff happened with Feyre and Elain. You were barely older than them. It wasn’t your fault.”

“But I should’ve-”

“Maybe, but you were so young. You’ve grown since then. Didn’t you help Khoniya? And Brielle? And Saibh and Riona and Cian?” 

“That’s different.”

Cassian continued, undeterred. “Also, yes, you had a hard time with all the crap you were going through. I should’ve been there for you-”

“I pushed you away and said horrible things-”

“-but I wasn’t and I’m sorry. But Nesta, look at you. You got yourself out. You’re brilliant and strong. You got yourself a job and friends.” He sounded as though he were in awe. “Look at you, Sweetheart. You did it all yourself.”

“Cassian…”

“You’re going to be an amazing mother, Nesta.” He wrapped his arms around her, hugging her from behind. She leaned her head against his shoulder. 

“I don’t even know what a good mother is,” she confessed quietly. “I love my mother, but she’s not- I don’t want to be the kind of mother she was.”

“I don’t know how to be a dad either,” Cassian admitted. “I don’t even know who my dad really was. My mom…” He sighed. “I love her, but that’s really all I’m sure of. I barely remember her.” 

They sat in comfortable, contemplative silence for a few moments. 

“I want to be a warm, caring mother,” Nesta whispered, “but I’m not a warm person. I’m full of sharp edges and words and I’m scared that I’ll end up accidentally hurting her.”

“Maybe you’re not always warm, but you care deeply. Our daughter will know you love her. And you’ll teach her to be strong,” Cassian replied. His eyes fluttered closed. “Nesta, I don’t even know… I’ve never been around kids. The only ones I know are the ones who I occasionally train in the camps and I don’t want to be so... rough and  _ militaristic _ around her but I don’t know how to be anything else.”

“You’re not militaristic around your family,” Nesta answered.

“No,” he agreed. “Around them, I crack inappropriate jokes. That certainly isn’t happening in front of her.”

“You’re not rough around me,” she said, looking up at him. “Cassian, just be yourself.”

“I can’t-”

“Cassian, you’re kind and caring and infinitely patient.”

“I’m not patient.”

“Okay, well, you’re forgiving then. Don’t say no. You have to be one of those things, or you wouldn’t be sitting here with me after all the things I said to you.”

“And what of the things I said to you?”

“Maybe I’m forgiving too,” Nesta said with a smirk. Then her eyes turned serious again. “Cassian, you’re going to be an amazing dad.”

He sighed. Then, he pressed a kiss to her neck. “We’ll try together.”

“Together,” Nesta repeated in answer and her voice sounded like birdsong, indicating the end of a long harsh winter. 

* * *

“And that concludes the formal part of today’s meeting,” Khoniya announced. “Unless anyone has anything they’d like to add?”

Riona nudged Nesta, drawing her attention away from Alizeh who had decided to start a discussion about how the informal courses they had set up were going. Nesta followed Riona’s gaze to the corner of the room, and let out a small chuckle. Cian and Iridiana were sitting next to each other, holding hands in a way that they probably thought was discrete but was actually glaringly obvious. They kept glancing at each other every few seconds. It was clear that their focus was certainly not what was going on in the meeting. 

“Do you think I should tell Alizeh to ask what Cian thinks?” Riona said in a conspiratory whisper to Nesta. 

Nesta smirked, but replied, “Let them be. They’re quite adorable.”

Riona rolled her eyes playfully. “Urg, don’t tell me you’ve become sappy too. I can’t be the only one with any sense left.”

Nesta raised an eyebrow. Had Riona realized what was going on between Saibh and Brielle? It certainly wasn’t Nesta’s place to reveal any secrets but perhaps Saibh had told Riona herself.

Riona seemed to interpret Nesta’s expression correctly and snorted. 

“No, they haven’t said anything, but they’re even worse at hiding it than Cian and Iridiana. I mean, look at them.”

Brielle and Saibh were on opposite sides of the room but were gazing lovingly at one another, a slight blush coating both of their faces. They seemed to be communicating through a series of expressions and mouthed words. 

“I don’t know, I’m not sure anyone could be more obvious than Cian and Iridiana,” Nesta countered. 

The two teens had now seemed to completely abandon any semblance of discretion and were now kissing. Avidly. 

And now they were making out.

“Cian’s lucky Saibh’s busy with her lovey-dovey staring contest,” Riona muttered. “If she saw him, she would’ve killed him. She doesn’t want any baby nieces or nephews roaming around, especially while we’re still living with Khoniya.”

Nesta snorted playfully. 

Riona glanced at her sister and then at the teens, before gagging violently. 

“I can’t deal with all this  _ mush _ ,” she said, as though the word mush meant torture.

Nesta nudged Riona as she noticed a new fae starting to talk. 

“Thank you all for letting me join,” the fae with silver hair, copper skin, and golden eyes said. “For those of you who I haven’t talked to yet, I’m Zorina, Senara’s sister.” Senara was a female who had been coming to meetings for the past two months. “I live in the Dawn Court. Things are slightly better for non-high Fae there than in Night, but there is nowhere for us to get to know each other. And there is certainly nowhere that half-high Fae or even full high-Fae who want a place to go can interact so freely with non-high Fae. It is so nice for you to have such a space and community.” Zorina’s smile turned wistful. “I must admit that I am sad that I must return home soon. I wish we had such a place in Dawn.”

Nesta watched as fae exchanged meaningful glances with each other. Then, suddenly, Arnav stood up. “Would you like to set up such a place in Dawn?” 

Zorina blinked in surprise before nodding. “I would, but I have no idea how.”

“I can help with that,” Khoniya chimed in. “It really isn’t as hard as you’d think.”

“We could help you get it started!” More voices joined in, excitedly.

“My daughter lives in Dawn. She was actually mentioning to me how much she wished she had a place like this near her.”

“Oh, my nephew lives there too!”

“Okay, first, you need to find a space. It’s better for it to be a larger place in case more fae join later, but you could just find a temporary space when you start. Then, you need to spread the information. We can help with that as well, if you’d like.”

“Did you start out with this many fae, or did most of them join later on?”

“No, no, we actually had less than 10 fae show up, but then we actually used flyers…”

* * *

Nesta screamed as Cassian whispered the word “BOO!” into her ear. 

She turned around in her chair and glared at him but Cassian’s attention had already shifted to the item — well, items — in her hands. 

“Why, sweetheart, you don’t have to be ashamed of your reading habits in this house,” he smirked.

“I’m not ashamed of anything!” she retorted, though a slight blush and smile crept onto her face. 

“No? Then why exactly are you hiding your smut inside a pregnancy book?”

Nesta merely narrowed her eyes as Cassian grinned. He peered at her book again.

“He thrust inside her again and again, his hard member hitting a spot that made her see stars and explode in pleasure,” he read aloud.

Nesta slammed her book —  _ books _ — shut. 

“That’s not very realistic,” Cassian said with a shit-eating smirk. “Most females require clitoral stimulation to reach an orgasm.”

“Our baby can hear you, you know!” Nesta was visibly blushing now.

Cassian chuckled. “It’s just human anatomy, sweetheart. But for what it’s worth, you were the one who started it, reading that dirty book in front of our daughter. I mean, it’s not even realistic sex ed.”

Nesta spluttered. “She can’t see what I read- it’s not- just- shut up.”

Cassian leaned down next to her ear and whispered, “If you were looking for some pleasure, you could have just asked me.”

He straightened and turned to get a cup of water in the kitchen.

Nesta, tired of blushing like a child, stood up silently and quipped, “Would you have said yes?” 

It was Cassian’s turn to be startled. “What?”

“If I’d asked,” she took a step towards him, the corners of her lips upturned at her newfound advantage in their verbal spar, “would you have helped me?” Their eyes met, their gazes filled with both intensity and playfulness. 

Cassian moved closer, taking one step. Then another. His hand caressed her cheek as he tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “I would do anything you wish.” His voice sounded like gravel as he spoke quietly, intently. 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah.”

Their lips met softly, but since they were Cassian and Nesta, the kiss quickly grew passionate. Her hands wrapped around his neck and his encircled her waist, pulling each other closer. They kissed and kissed and most likely would have continued to kiss if Nesta hadn’t pulled away with a wince.

Cassian snapped out of his blissful daze, becoming concerned at Nesta’s reaction. “Are you alright? Are you in pain? Or was it- if you don’t want to do anything, we don’t have to. I don’t want you to feel pressured if you were just joking or-”

“Cassian,” Nesta interrupted firmly. “It’s fine. I just felt… something.” She patted her swollen stomach. 

Her blue grey eyes met his worried hazel ones once more, and she smiled. “I think she’s just happy.”

“Are you sure, because-”

Nesta grinned, gently pulling Cassian’s neck down once more. “Won’t you kiss the pain away?”

“Pain? Wha-”

Nesta pushed her lips against his once more, effectively silencing him. Her hands moved to the roots of hair, her fingers gripping the soft strands. Cassian made a sound halfway between a growl and a moan. Nesta wondered absently if that was why it was called a groan. The thought evaporated as one of his hands cupped her ass. Their kiss grew increasingly heated. Nesta let out a sensual moan and was about to move one of her hands to the waistband of Cassian’s pants when he pulled away, gently but suddenly. 

Nesta’s confusion only grew at the expression on his face. Nesta tried to think of a reason he would look so alarmed, but her brain seemed to have been turned off at some point during their make out session.

“Nesta, sweetheart, I know I make you wet, but, um,” he trailed off, glancing down. Nesta followed his gaze to where her water had just broken.

Fuck. 

She probably shouldn’t be cursing at her daughter before she was even born, Nesta thought absently. She probably should have been excited to meet her,  _ and she was _ , but did her daughter really have to be born now, when Nesta had  _ finally _ been getting some action after nine months of hormonal abstinence? 

“Nesta? Nesta? Are you listening to me?” 

“What?”

Cassian’s voice had lost all traces of his usual joking, flirtatious manner and instead seemed panicked. “Where’s the parchment to contact Healer Galen? Do you want to lay down? Are you-”

Nesta walked over to the side table next to the sofa. Picking up a pen, she wrote on the communication parchment in her usual, neat handwriting: 

_ Hello,  _

_ My water just broke. Please come quickly.  _

_ Thank you, _

_ \- Nesta _

“Don’t you want to sit down? Aren’t you having contractions?” Cassian asked, hurrying over. Nesta rolled her eyes at his fussing. “Calm down, Cassian. I guess I am having contractions.” She had just mistaken it for her daughter’s  painfully strong kicks (and also suspected indigestion). “It doesn’t even hurt that much.”

* * *

Nesta cried out in pain and Cassian resisted the urge to do the same. 

Healer Galen had arrived swiftly, bringing along a special bed that where the top half could also be lifted to create a chair-like structure. The first few hours had gone fairly smoothly, but then Nesta had started whimpering in pain. Feeling helpless, Cassian had whispered soothingly to Nesta. After an hour (which felt like ten), Healer Galen had performed some magic on Nesta to numb her pain. A few hours later, Nesta was back to gasping in pain. Cassian had volunteered to let her hold his hand and was now facing the consequences. He wondered briefly whether Healer Galen was qualified to reset bones. 

Nesta cried out again. 

Nesta had never been someone who openly showed her emotions. Cassian knew that whatever she was displaying was merely a fraction of the pain she was in. 

“Isn’t there anything else you can do?” Cassian demanded desperately. 

Healer Galen shook her head. “I’m sorry, but right now we just have to wait.”

“There’s really nothing else?” 

Healer Galen nodded apologetically.

“Can I at least feed her something?”

“She can’t eat right now.”

“Well, what can I do?”

“SHUT UP CASSIAN,” Nesta yelled, crushing his hand once more. “This is all YOUR FAULT you know.”

“I’m so sorry, Sweetheart,” he replied, wiping her sweaty forehead. 

“This one really hurts,” she whispered. Her voice sounded so frail, so unlike the fiery Nesta that he was used to, that a piece of Cassian’s heart seemed to break. Right along with his fingers, as Nesta clenched them once more. 

“Is it almost over?” Nesta pleaded. 

“You still probably have about five hours left,” Healer Galen replied.

Nesta slumped tiredly. “Five hours? I can’t- I can’t do this.”    
“You’re doing great,” Cassian answered.

“No. No, I can’t, Cassian.” Nesta’s hand started to shake and her eyes darted rapidly across the room, panicked. 

“Hey, hey, Nesta, look at me.” Her eyes met his. “Good. Now take a deep breath with me. In.” 

Her chest rose with his command. 

“And out. In. And out.”

He repeated his command until Nesta’s panic subsided. 

“Thank you,” she whispered after a few moments.

“I should be thanking you. You’re the one doing all the hard work, bringing our daughter into the world.”

Nesta gave him a half smile before settling into a painful, tired silence.

The next few hours blurred together. All Cassian could do was sit there, offering her his hand and his words of encouragement. He hadn’t felt so powerless since he was a child, unable to stop his own mother’s suffering. Watching Nesta, one of the strongest females, no, one of the strongest fae he’d ever met, scream in pain made him wish there was a way for him to help her. His desperation grew as he wiped away the tears gathering at the corners of her eyes. 

“Alright Nesta,” Healer Galen announced, “you’re fully dilated now. You’re going to start pushing soon, alright?” 

Nesta let out a ragged breathe but nodded. Her hand was still gripping his, but it felt too tired, too limp. And she was supposed to  _ start _ pushing a baby out of her soon? Who the fuck had decided that pushing a child out of a tiny hole was a good idea? 

“Okay, deep breath Nesta. Good, now, push!” 

She scrunched her face in pain, leaning forward, and pushing with all her might.

“Good, now stop. Deep breath. Wait, wait, wait. Now. Push!”

Her screams triggered something deep inside Cassian — something he hadn’t dared to touch until now. He reached for the string in his gut, the one he tried to pretend didn’t exist for so long. He took a deep breath and grasped it. It felt as though a door had opened, the connection between them unbarred. Then, he took the the wonder and admiration he felt at her continued efforts to bring their daughter into the world, the strength she gave him to face any hardship as long as she was by his side, and the excitement he felt at becoming a parent — becoming a parent with her — and he sent it through the bond. 

She gasped softly and turned her head to meet his eyes. Her face lit up and she gave him a genuine smile that pulled his heartstrings and made him want to pull her into a tight embrace and never let go. He wanted to kneel down and worship her like a goddess just to make her want to smile like that again. He wanted to kiss her and pour every bit of his emotions for her down the bond and watch her realize the depth of his affection for her. Instead, he wiped her brow and pressed a tiny peck to her cheek. 

Time seemed to go faster after that. 

Nesta kept pushing, and pushing, and pushing, and then all of a sudden the baby was in Healer Galen’s arms — a bloody, gooey, crying mess. 

Cassian felt as though he were in a dream he was afraid to wake up from as he cut the cord. Healer Galen took the baby —  _ his daughter _ — to clean her up. 

When Cassian turned back to Nesta, he realized that she was still in pain. 

“What’s wrong?” He asked, panicked. Was there some sort of complication? Or- No. It couldn’t be twins. They didn’t have enough supplies for that. They didn’t even have two cribs! 

“It’s just the placenta,” Healer Galen explained calmly while washing the baby. “It should be over in a few minutes.” 

Sure enough, a few minutes later, the placenta and the contractions finally left Nesta’s body. She slumped on the bed, exhausted.

Healer Galen walked over to them, holding their daughter, wrapped in a white cotton blanket, and placed the baby in Nesta’s arms. 

Cassian and Nesta stared down at the bundle. Cassian felt his heart expand as he looked at her, their beautiful, magical, miracle. Their  _ child _ . 

He looked up at Nesta, whose eyes were filled with such joy and peace that Cassian wanted to week. He looked at them, his girls, and wished he could freeze this moment and bask in its glory forever.

But as Nesta caressed their daughter’s dark hair, Cassian was reminded that the best was yet to come. He had never felt this happy in his entire, 500 year life, and he was so full of emotion that he felt as though he were about to explode. 

His face was adorned with tears of joy and his truest smile as he leaned in closer to his daughter and whispered, “Hello, Adira.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Adira is pronounced Ah-deer-ah (like, "add" + "ear" + "ah")  
> Side note: this may be the last chapter I post before ACOSF. I fully plan on continuing the story, and will let you know if anything changes. I hope you will stay with me and continue to read future chapters of this fic despite it not being ACOSF complicant. Either way, thank you all so much for the past 1 year. It's been an amazing journey and you have all really helped me to improve and gain a lot more confidence in my writing. You all have a special place in my heart.  
> If any of you want to talk on Tumblr, my Tumblr is @sayosdreams. If you don't have Tumblr, feel free to leave a comment and we can chat in the comments lol or instagram. 
> 
> Thanks for reading!! Please leave a comment (they motivate me!) <3


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